


False Faces

by KathyAgel



Series: The Nexus Cycle [2]
Category: Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea
Genre: Character Development, Dolphins, Gen, Sequel, scientific mission
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:00:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 87,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22745935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KathyAgel/pseuds/KathyAgel
Summary: A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.
Series: The Nexus Cycle [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1623820
Comments: 24
Kudos: 10





	1. You Call This Place Mundane?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

Awakened from a deep, sound sleep by the throaty voice of a foghorn, Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton sleepily wondered why he could hear it so clearly when he lived some distance inland. Then he realized that it wasn’t a distant foghorn that had awakened him, but his too-close alarm clock on the pine night table beside his bed. He rolled over and groped groggily for the mechanism that had so rudely shocked him awake.

He finally located it, slapping his hand down onto the snooze button, silencing the strident buzzer. _Damned_ _thing sounds more and more like a foghorn every morning_ , he thought, as he opened a single blue eye and blearily peered at the clock’s glowing red digital readout. _Six AM already?_ he asked himself, groaning mentally. _I knew should have gone back to the Institute and slept aboard Seaview last night after I left April's condo._

He buried his head under the pillow and lay spread-eagled across his bed, allowing himself to drop back to sleep once more, dozing until the alarm insistently blared once again. He slammed his hand down on it, and blessed silence reigned. Then he kicked off the covers, sat up, took a deep, resigned breath, swung his long legs off the bed and remained there for a moment. Hands braced on the edge of the mattress, he willed himself awake.

Their just-completed cruise hadn’t been long or at all difficult, but being attacked by a great white shark during a supposedly simple test dive with one of the Institute’s cetacean researchers and her three bottlenose dolphins wasn’t quite his idea of fun. He’d wanted to put that near-disaster behind him, so, soon after _Seaview_ had berthed, he’d called April Tanner, one of the three women he was currently dating. She was free, even on such short notice, and he’d picked her up as soon as he was able to get away from the submarine. They’d gone out for dinner, then out to a club to go dancing, finally ending up at her condo in an exclusive development near the harbor, where one thing had led to another...and another....

Chip hadn’t arrived home until well after one o’clock that morning. While he’d enjoyed himself at the time, he now regretted it. Nowadays, late dates, no matter how much he enjoyed himself on them, seemed to take a greater toll on him than they used to, though he never had a problem getting by on a minimum of sleep while on a mission. As _Seaview’s_ executive officer, he had no set schedule other than what he made for himself, but he was always available in case of emergency. There had been times when he had worked around the clock, others when he made do with brief catnaps snatched whenever he could grab one, often for days on end, with no perceptible decrease in his energy level.

His work on _Seaview_ exhilarated him as nothing else did. His career had always been his first love, as _Seaview_ was now his second. Neither left any room for a serious relationship – the demands on his time were too great. He had no time to devote to being someone’s ‘significant other. And the professional women he dated, having serious goals themselves, were as eager as he for a no-strings relationship. They regularly dated other men, and he dated other women, with no acrimony on either side. And that was just the way he liked it. As for anything beyond that – well, he hadn’t yet found a woman who really understood his work and what his career meant to him, let alone one who would be satisfied taking second place to _Seaview_. Although, since he hadn’t been looking for anything more than occasional companionship up to this point in time, it was rather a moot point.

He thought about resetting the alarm and going back to sleep for a short while longer, perhaps even getting in to the Institute a little late. Then he dismissed the idea. He’d planned to write his post-cruise report today, and while he could delay it – it was a cliché, but rank did have its privileges, after all – he didn't want to set such a precedent. He always filed it promptly after they returned from a cruise, and both Lee and Nelson had come to expect to receive it that day. Besides, he couldn’t face being awakened by that foghorn masquerading as an alarm clock even one more time. He made a mental note to replace it with something a little more gentle as soon as possible.

Standing, Chip arched backwards in a tendon-popping stretch, and ambled into the bathroom for a long and rejuvenating hot shower.

** *** ***

Doctor Lynn Murtagh put her Jeep into _park_ , then gave her NIMR ID to the petty officer on duty at the main gate of the Nelson Institute for Marine Research. “Mornin’, Chief,” she said, smiling. The high clearance of her Jeep put her almost on eye level with the man as she handed him the badge.

Chief Petty Officer Ben Wilson’s normally dour face creased into a smile as he swiped the badge on his terminal, then handed it back to her. “You’re in early, even for you, Doc.”

“I just got back from a research cruise on _Seaview_. Lotsa work on my desk, Chief. I’d rather come in early than work on a weekend, when I could be riding. See ya.” She clipped the ID back onto the waistband of her jeans and put the Jeep back into drive.

There were few cars in the garage under the Administration Building as she pulled into her assigned spot; those that were there belonged to the night shift or were official Institute vehicles. A few brisk steps through the silent garage took her to the elevators. Moments later, she was back out in the rosy early morning sunlight and on the way to the Marine Mammal Building.

The halls were quiet as she entered. There was no real reason to expect anyone else to be there just before six in the morning, but the emptiness still gave Lynn an eerie feeling as she made her way to the dolphin lab. Excited chattering greeted her as she unlocked the door and pushed it open. Looking toward the glass wall of the dolphin tank that dominated a good part of the lab’s rear wall, she saw her three dolphins swimming up and down behind the glass, poking their heads out of the water and looking through the floor-to-ceiling glass barrier between the tank and the bullpen area.

Lynn shook her head, but couldn’t keep from grinning. “I swear, you guys know what my key sounds like in the lock.” She climbed the stairs to the platform that abutted the tank and knelt on the rubberized decking. “Such excitement. I’ve only been gone since last night.”

The largest dolphin squealed and nodded vigorously at her, then looked significantly toward the freezer at one side of the platform. “No, it’s not time for breakfast. You have two hours yet. I swear, Sammy, you’d eat yourself to death if I let you.” She stroked the dolphin fondly. The other two crowded in to demand their share of attention. “Okay, okay,” Lynn laughed. “One at a time. You hafta take turns, remember?”

She spent several minutes more on the deck interacting with the dolphins, then rose to her feet. “I came in early to get some work done, and I won’t get any of it done if I stay here and play with you guys.” She bounced down the steps to the desk she used when in the lab and logged onto the terminal.

She was deep into her report when the lab started filling up. She worked on for a while, greeting each arrival pleasantly, all the while wishing for a few more minutes of solitude.

“Hey, Lynn,” Nick Costello called down from the deck, “did you feed these guys already?”

“Nick,” Lynn replied patiently, “they’re on a schedule, remember?”

“Yeah, but....”

“But what?” Lynn asked.

“Boss, how can you resist those eyes?” Nick asked.

“Nick, have you ever had a hound dog?” Lynn called.

“What does that have to do with anything?” Nick asked, obviously puzzled.

Lynn sighed in resignation. “Nick, just answer my question. Have you?”

“No.” The tone of his voice made it obvious he was humoring Lynn.

“Well, we’ve had a few. They have the biggest, brownest, begginest eyes, and I’ve never had any problem saying no to any of them. And refusing any dog a goodie is good practice for saying no to a dolphin.”

“Whatever you say, Boss,” Nick said, and began feeding the dolphins.

Lynn turned back to her terminal and tried to recompose her thoughts. She’d just insulated herself against the increasing bustle of the lab when her concentration was broken by a voice at her shoulder.

“So what’s he like?”

Lynn let her chin drop to her chest, then took off her glasses and pushed at her sinuses before looking up at her assailant. “What’s **who** like, Mo?” she asked innocently.

Maureen Garrity snorted and seated herself on the desk, crossing her legs. “You know exactly who I mean.”

“Refresh my memory,” Lynn ordered.

“You know, Chip Morton. The blond god.”

“Maureen,” Lynn warned.

“The legend of the Institute and the surrounding area for miles around,” Maureen continued, as if Lynn hadn’t spoken. “He of the shining platinum blond hair and azure blue eyes.”

Lynn rolled her eyes at Maureen’s hyperbole, then shrugged. “Gee, Mo, I really hadn’t thought about it.”

“Oh, for Pete’s sake, Lynn, the man’s a legend! You must have **some** opinion!” Maureen proclaimed in exasperation.

“Well,” Lynn hedged, knowing she was infuriating Maureen and loving every minute of it, “yeah, I guess I do.”

“Don’t stop now, Lynn,” Maureen said dryly. “You’re on a roll.”

“Okay,” Lynn conceded. “He’s nice. I like him.”

“You **like** him. That’s all?”

“Is there supposed to be more?” Lynn asked blandly.

“I was hoping there would be,” Maureen said. “But, knowing you....”

“Yeah, Mo, it’s a real shame I have to put business before pleasure,” Lynn said flatly and turned back to her desk.

“More like a waste,” Maureen shot back. “So what’s he like?”

“He’s a nice guy,” Lynn said casually. “We got along just fine.”

“Turned the charm on, did he?”

“No, Maureen, he didn’t,” Lynn said in what she hoped was an offhand manner. Yeah, she liked the guy, but the last thing she wanted or needed at this point was for Maureen to get the wrong idea – or the right one, for that matter. “He was very pleasant, but very businesslike, and he made my job a lot easier.”

“And?”

“And what?” Lynn asked innocently.

“And is that it?” Maureen pressed.

“And I think he’s one of the nicest men I’ve ever met,” Lynn said simply.

“ **Nice** ,” Maureen echoed. “You keep using that word.”

“Because that’s what he is,” Lynn said patiently. “Nice. He reminds me a little of Kevin.”

“Aha!”Maureen said in triumph. “I knew it!”

“You knew what?” Lynn asked, confused.

“I knew you’d fall for him, too. It was inevitable. Every other woman here has.”

Lynn looked up at her secretary in irritation. “Maureen, are we having the same conversation here? I compared him to my twin brother. I said he was **nice**. Nice as in a platonic relationship. And....”

Maureen pounced. “And what?”

Lynn hesitated a moment before speaking. “And I’d trust him with my life,” she said softly.

“How about your heart?”

“Everyone knows I don’t have one,” Lynn said, and turned back to the monitor.

Maureen reached out and spun Lynn’s chair around so she was facing her. “ **We** know better. And anyway, you didn’t answer my question.”

“What question was that?” Lynn asked with a glare.

“Would you trust him with your heart?”

“I said I’d trust him with my life, Mo. My heart doesn’t even begin to enter into the discussion,” Lynn answered flatly.

“Why not?”

“Because I’d like to keep it in one piece, that’s why.”

“Lynn, that’s a terrible attitude, even for you. Don’t you want a man who’ll sweep you off your feet?”

Lynn snorted. “Horses should fly so high. That’s a fantasy, Mo. Men who sweep you off your feet usually leave bruises. And I don’t look good in black and blue.”

“Cynic,” Maureen shot back.

Lynn stared back at her. “No, Maureen. Just a realist.”

“Fantasy can be a lot more fun,” Maureen chided.

“ _Star Wars_ is fantasy,” Lynn shot back. “This is real life.”

“Real life is boring.”

“And fantasy is overrated,” was Lynn’s only reply to that as she turned back to her work.

Maureen stood there for a moment, tapping her foot. “Go ahead, ignore me.”

“I don’t need your permission to do that,” Lynn said simply, and flipped through her notebook.

Realizing she was getting nowhere with this line of assault, Maureen set off on another tack. “So what was it like being the only woman among one hundred twenty-five men for nearly a week?”

Lynn feigned puzzlement. “You mean, I was the only woman in the middle of over one hundred men? Really?”

“I suppose you’re going to tell me you didn’t even notice,” Maureen said, feigning disgust.

“Nope.” Lynn turned back to the monitor. “I don’t have to – you already said it for me.”

Maureen stood. “God’ll get you for that,” she said, walking away.

“He already has. I’m stuck with you for a secretary,” Lynn called after her.

“Finally got the last word in, huh?” asked a voice somewhere above and to Lynn’s left.

Swiveling her chair, she smiled up at the tall and slender black man who stood looking down at her, his hands in the seam pockets of his slacks.

Lynn sighed. “She’ll just make me pay for it later. “How’s it goin’, Davey?”

Doctor Dave Cousins pulled a face at the appellation. “Dave, please. ‘Davey’ makes me sound like somebody’s dog or something.”

Lynn grinned and nodded. “Sorry. Should I repeat the question with a suitable amount of respect, Doctor Cousins?”

“I’ll let you slide this time. To answer your question, things have been fine. Shaughnessey kept Mo under control. He brought his daughter in and got Mo to babysit. She took her swimming with my spinners.”

“Those poor dolphins.” Lynn grimaced. “Where is the mighty one, anyway?”

“He’ll be in late. He had to take Beth to the plane.”

“Damn,” Lynn said. “She’s my goddaughter and I didn’t even get to see her this trip.”

“If you’d gotten back on time, you would have,” Dave pointed out.

“That was out of my control,” Lynn said. “A shark got in the way.”

“That’s probably the only thing that would have excused you. Beth left a couple of drawings and a letter for you with Maureen.”

Lynn smiled. “She’s a real sweet kid – no thanks to her mother.”

“Now, now,” Dave chided. “Your fangs are showing.”

“They oughta,” Lynn growled. “She did a real number on poor Bob, and – ”

“Speak of the devil,” Dave said, and inclined his head toward the door.

“Lynnie, me darlin’, how are ya?” Shaughnessey asked, plucking Lynn out of her chair and giving her an enthusiastic hug.

“I’ll be fine when I get my breath back,” she gasped. “Put me down, you big lug, before you break a couple of ribs!”

Shaughnessey obliged, setting Lynn down on her feet. “So, Lynnie-me-gal, how’s your love life?”

“Very funny,” Lynn scowled. “You and Garrity make a nice pair.”

“Watch your mouth,” Bob said in an atrocious Irish brogue. “I don’t need any insults from the likes of you.”

“You don’t get enough of them, dear. I keep you sane,” Lynn said sweetly, patting his cheek.

“Yeah, Shaughnessey,” Dave Cousins put in. “We all know you’ve been fighting mental health for years.”

Lynn logged off the terminal. “I should have known better than to try to get any serious work done down here.” She picked up her notebook and rose. “I’ll be in my office. With the door locked.”

“Hey, Lynnie, wait up,” Shaughnessey said, and hurried after her.

Lynn spread her hands in resignation. “Sure, why not? The hall’s free.”

Bob walked along beside her, mumbling to himself as he rooted in his briefcase.

Lynn cast him a glance. “You keep talking to yourself like that, Rocco, and the men in those nice white coats will come and take you away,” she said.

“Ah, but you’ll come and rescue me, won’tcha, my dollink?”

“No way, pal. I’ve been dodging the funny farm for years thanks to the likes of you.”

“Having a serious conversation with you is impossible,” Shaughnessey complained petulantly.

“Hah!” Lynn barked. “It’s easier than having a serious conversation with you.”

“Now see what you did! You made me lose my train of thought!”

“No such luck.” Lynn smirked. “It probably derailed a long time ago.”

“Lynnie, that line was old when you were a baby."

“Ooohh, clever. Did you read that one somewhere?”

Shaughnessey frowned. “You’re in a real nasty mood today – even for you. Whatsamatter, Little Lynnie?”

Lynn looked at him for a moment, then sighed. “Letdown, I guess. Back to the mundane world.”

“You call this place mundane?” Bob challenged.

“It is when you compare it to _Seaview_.” Lynn gnawed on her lower lip. “I wanna go back.”

“That good, huh?”

Lynn sighed and smiled. “Beyond my wildest dreams. She’s amazing – and I only got to see part of her.”

“So when do you go back?”

Lynn snorted. “If it were up to me, right now. But it’s not up to me. I have to be invited.”

“And if you are?”

“I’d go,” Lynn snapped her fingers, “like that.”

“Yeah, I bet you would.”

“Hey, it was fun.”

Shaughnessey snorted. “Only you would call a shark attack fun. How’d you fit in with all the uniforms?”

“Same way I’ve been fitting in with them all my life. No biggie.”

“And the Admiral?”

Lynn grimaced. “That’s a biggie. But he was nice – not nearly as intimidating as I thought he’d be. Let’s hope he stays that way after he reads my report.” She opened her outer office door. “Which I would like to finish, so kindly leave me alone for about six hours.”

“Only if you let me take you to lunch,” Shaughnessey said.

“Sorry – I already have a previous engagement with Angie. See ya later.” She slipped inside the office, held up one hand in a warding-off gesture at Maureen as she opened the inner office door. “No calls unless they’re really important. I gotta get this done,” she said.

“You’ll be chained to the keyboard, I suppose?” Maureen asked dryly.

“For as long as I have to be,” Lynn acknowledged, and disappeared into her office.

** *** **

After greeting Marion Cooper, his decidedly unfriendly but unfortunately highly efficient secretary, Chip hung his cover and jacket in his office closet and walked to the mess masquerading as his desk. He’d left it neat and tidy, but as he’d anticipated, the paperwork had multiplied during his absence. Piles of forms that needed attention and letters – some official and already opened, others marked personal and still sealed – covered the desktop. All would need to be read, and a good many would need replies as well.

His office was warm and a little stuffy, so he opened the window closest to his desk, hoping for a refreshing sea breeze. Tugging at his tie, he loosened it, opening the top button of his uniform shirt as well as he pulled out his chair and settled in at his desk. He hadn’t taken the time to eat breakfast before leaving his condo, so he called the commissary and ordered a thermos of their incomparable black coffee and a bacon and fried egg sandwich on a freshly-baked New York-style kaiser roll, then began to sort out the morass of paperwork that awaited him. Reprovisioning orders, crew evaluations, correspondence both official and personal, and the usual post-cruise report all awaited his attention. He gathered everything into one large pile and started sorting.

His breakfast arrived when he was halfway through sorting, and he ate it as he worked. Once he had the mess organized and sorted into appropriate piles, he realized that none of the individual items demanded his immediate attention. The reprovisioning orders were already partially filled out with the standard post-cruise reorders, and only needed to have a few specific items filled in. They could wait. Many of the letters could be handled by his secretary, and the few pieces of personal correspondence weren’t at all pressing. And since the crew evaluations weren’t due until the end of the quarter, he decided to tackle the post-cruise report first.

He worked on it for an hour, trying to condense the events of the cruise and detail them in the matter-of-fact tone the report – indeed, all military reports – demanded. It wasn’t easy, but over the past few years he’d become quite skilled at boiling down the most extraordinary events, distilling their essence and expressing them in more mundane terms. Sometimes it was difficult – some of their missions had been so unbelievable, even the supermarket tabloids would have scoffed at them – but this cruise, shark attack aside, had indeed been fairly routine, and he had the report written in less time than he’d anticipated. He saved the file, routed it to Lee and Nelson, then pulled the first stack of letters toward him and set to work.

** *** **

Lynn had outlined her paper and was industriously working on the first draft of the first section when a thought occurred to her. Should she mention Commander Morton by name or should she refer to him simply as one of _Seaview’s_ officers? That wasn’t a call she could make on her own, so she decided to go to the source.

She reached for the NIMR directory, flipped through it until she came to the _Ms_ , and looked up Commander Morton’s extension. She reached for her phone, then stopped. A phone call was so casual – a memo or e-mail would be more formal and she’d have documentation for her file.

She turned to her keyboard and began composing the message, taking care to strike a balance between a casual tone and one that was more businesslike and professional. She read it over, corrected two typos, changed the wording a bit, then sent it off, and went back to composing her report.

Not long after she’d sent the e-mail, her personal line rang. Looking at the display, she recognized the extension of Angie Pierce, Nelson’s administrative assistant. Lifting the receiver before Maureen could answer, she slipped it between her ear and shoulder as she continued to type. “Murtagh.”

“Dolphin lady,” was Angie’s only greeting.

“High-powered admin assistant,” Lynn shot back.

“Maureen didn’t want to put me through,” Angie complained. “I had to pull rank.”

“I told her to put important calls through – I guess she doesn’t think you qualify,” Lynn teased.

“She learned differently,” Angie parried. “How'd it go?” she demanded, in a soft voice that sounded as smooth as warm honey.

“Aside from nearly being eaten by a shark, it was great.”

“Yeah, I heard. Leave it to you,” Angie said dryly. “I was expecting you to call me last night, you know.”

“I got home pretty late. I didn’t think Denny would want to be bothered at that hour.”

“Yet you were here before six this morning. So dedicated.”

“You checked my swipe-in time?” Lynn asked in surprise.

“I do what needs to be done,” Angie said, finishing on a breathy laugh. “Are you free for lunch?”

“Better believe it,” Lynn said quickly. “Anything to take me away from this paperwork.”

“I can hear you typing,” Angie acknowledged. “You need to get Maureen do more of that.”

“She does – but she can't write my report for Lucius or the paper for _Cetacean Journal_ any more than you can write the Admiral’s papers for him,” Lynn pointed out.

“True. But you need a break – and I need all the details of your little trip on the Grey Lady.”

“You just got most of them,” Lynn said.

“Hardly,” Angie scoffed, “but I'll get the rest of them later. And remember….”

“It's my treat. I know.” Lynn sighed. “What time am I meeting you guys and where?”

“The commissary – today’s specials are Cobb salad and broccoli quiche, so we’ll both be happy. And it's just you and me today. The rest of the Lunch Bunch gets to have a go at you on Friday.”

“Oh, Lord,” Lynn said. “I was nearly eaten by a shark and now I have to face your interrogation on my first day back? I don’t know which is worse.”

“I do. Prepare yourself, Doctor,” Angie said, and cut the connection.

** *** **

Angie was already seated at a table by the window when Lynn entered the commissary. Nelson’s admin assistant waved, and Lynn wound her way through the tables between them.

Angie looked at Lynn, casting a jaundiced eye over Lynn’s clothing as Lynn pulled back the chair.

“What?” Lynn demanded, looking down at herself, then back at Angie.

“Jeans and a tee shirt again,” Angie complained. “A tee shirt that says ‘ _Dive like a girl’_ , no less.”

“It’s jeans and a tee shirt every day – it’s practical. If I had **your** job, I’d wear Armani to work, too,” Lynn said as she pulled out her chair and sat down across from Angie. “ **My** job calls for jeans – when it doesn’t call for a wetsuit or a wetskin.”

Angie pulled a face. “At least the brocade vest dresses it up a bit.”

“I wore it in your honor, dearest,” Lynn shot back with a little grin.

“Yeah – tell me another one,” Angie complained. “So…how was it working with Chip?”

Lynn narrowed her eyes at Angie. “Did Maureen put you up to this?” she demanded.

“Lynn.” Angie gave her a look of disgust. “We’ve been friends for how long now? Do I ever need anyone to put me up to anything?”

“No,” Lynn admitted. “You do quite well enough on your own.” She smiled up at the server, who filled her water glass and handed her a menu.

“Thank you,” Angie said airily. “I knew he was going to be your liaison, you know.”

Lynn speared her with a glance. “And you didn't see fit to inform me of that little fact? I thought I was going to get a division officer as a liaison, and I got the number two guy on the boat himself. A little advance knowledge would have been nice, you know.”

Angie’s smile rivaled that of the Mona Lisa’s. “Some things are better found out on your own.”

“Oh, Ange….” Lynn let the words out on a sigh and shook her head.

“So?” Angie prodded. “Has he asked you out yet?”

“Why does everyone think that man is going to ask me out?” Lynn asked in amazement.

“Why do you think ‘that man’ won’t?” Angie parried.

Lynn made a face. “Maybe because he’s a living legend and I’m just…me?”

“Just you?” Angie made a rude noise. “You really are incredibly un-self-aware, aren’t you? Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?”

“I tend to do that in the morning,” Lynn said dryly. “It keeps me from poking an eye out with my mascara wand.”

Angie ignored Lynn’s sarcasm. “Yeah, those eyes – and that hair, and that tan, and those long legs…spiff yourself up a little and you’ll have guys lined up at your door.”

“Yeah, just what I need – more complications,” Lynn scoffed. “And who has time, anyway?”

“You have time to ride, to play in Borderline, to write another kids’ book – to do anything you want, really. How about time to be happy?” Angie asked. “Your social life is nonexistent.”

“Who says I need a man to make me happy?” Lynn shot back.

“Not **a** man, but the **right** man,” Angie said.

“That’s a reach, you know,” Lynn said. “Even for a yenta like you. I just met the guy. We had a very nice working relationship, and I enjoyed our interaction, but it was nothing more than that.”

“But did **he** enjoy your interaction?” Angie pressed.

“I guess so,” Lynn said, shrugging. “You’d really have to ask him to be sure. But I didn’t get any ‘I’d like to go out with you’ vibe from him.”

“Well, it’s still early for that yet,” Angie said brightly. “And he’s kind of emotionally unavailable.”

“Oh, I know the type all too well,” Lynn said dryly.

“Well, maybe more emotionally barricaded,” Angie amended. “He and Lee both have active social lives.”

“Guys who look like those two usually do,” Lynn said.

Angie went on as if Lynn hadn’t spoken. “But it’s nothing more than that. Good times, light and easy. Nothing serious.”

“Not a plus, Angie,” Lynn said dryly.

“No, but both of them make it very clear from the beginning, so it’s not exactly bait and switch.”

“Oh, that puts a better face on it, doesn’t it, now?” Lynn asked and rolled her eyes.

“Sarcasm doesn’t become you, Ashleen.” Angie sniffed.

“Sarcasm is one of my best instruments, Angela,” Lynn shot back.

“And you’re not the kind of woman he usually dates.”

“Yeah, I know, Ange,” Lynn said softly. “He’s way out of my league.”

“He is **not** ,” Angie shot back. “You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

Lynn snorted. “Just because I like to read science fiction and fantasy doesn’t mean my life is either one.” She toyed with her silverware. “He’s a nice guy, and I enjoyed his company, but that was the end of it.”

“Don’t be so sure. I think he’s looking for something – or someone. But my feeling is, he doesn’t know what – or who.”

“That could describe any unattached man or woman alive,” Lynn pointed out.

“What about you?” Angie asked.

“Me?” Lynn looked at her in surprise. “What **about** me?”

“What are **you** looking for?”

Lynn shook her head. “I’m not. I figure if anyone is looking, he’ll find me.”

Angie shook her head in disbelief. “You’re the last person I thought would be so traditional.”

Lynn looked at her in disbelief. “I’m **not** traditional – I just have a healthy dose of self-respect. There’s no sense pushing yourself on someone who isn’t interested. And so far, if anyone is looking, or even semi-interested, they sure haven’t let me know about it.”

Angie coyly cocked her head to the right “Maybe he already has – but neither of you realizes it yet.”

Lynn shook her head. “Oh, Ange, no. Really. It wasn’t like that.”

Angie leaned forward, resting her weight on her elbows and her chin in her cupped hands. “Then tell me – what **was** it like?”

Lynn took a deep breath before speaking. “ _Seaview_ is amazing, and the dolphins performed beyond my wildest dreams.”

“And?”

“And I’m still walking around on two legs because my dolphins kept a shark from eating me for lunch the other day,” Lynn said simply. “That was kind of important to me.”

“You don’t **have** to be thickheaded just because you’re Irish, you know,” Angie complained. “You know exactly what I’m getting at.”

“Yes, I do – and I’m ignoring you,” Lynn said flatly.

“Why?”

“Because…we have to order our food.” Lynn smiled up at the waiter, who’d appeared behind Angie’s shoulder, gave him her order, and hid her smile at the frustrated expression on Angie’s face.

Angie ordered her own lunch, then glared at Lynn. “You can’t ignore me now. Give.”

Lynn shook her head. “Angie, nothing happened. Not that I expected it to, either.”

“No, not on _Seaview_. He’s too responsible for that. I dated him for a while, you know,” Angie said out of the blue. “A couple of months after the Institute opened. He introduced me to Dennis after we broke up.”

Lynn’s eyes widened. “He passed you on to his friend?”

“ **No**!” Angie protested. “We decided mutually that there was no spark between us and we were better off as friends. And when Chip introduced me to Denny, it was love at first sight.”

Lynn looked at her dubiously. “Whatever you say, Ange.”

“Don’t you believe in love at first sight?” Angie challenged.

“Maybe.” Lynn shrugged. “I guess. Jack does. Do you believe that? My practical-to-the-bone big brother?”

“Your practical-to-the-bone big brother is head over heels in love with Eileen,” Angie pointed out. “It’s obvious to anyone who sees them together.”

Lynn nodded. “It’s been that way since they met in college. So, yeah, maybe I do believe in love at first sight.”

“But only for other people,” Angie scoffed.

“Pretty much.”

Angie rolled her eyes. “Murtagh, you are such a cynic.”

“I’m not a cynic,” Lynn protested. “I’m a realist.”

“With no romance in your heart. That’s so un-Irish.”

“We don’t all believe in leprechauns, you know,” Lynn said dryly.

“Your loss.” Angie curled her upper lip as a tall woman with a fantastic figure and shoulder-length honey-blonde hair passed their table. “And there goes the Landshark.”

“The who?” Lynn asked, following the direction of Angie’s gaze.

“You need to get out of the water more, Doctor,” Angie said. “The Landshark. Katie Leydon. Former spook. Hated by every woman here who has ever had the utter misfortune to interact with her.”

“Why?”

“Because she’s a predator. Thinks she’s above the other women here, most of whom are scientific or clerical staff. She’s an ex-field agent, and that naturally makes her superior to us riff-raff.” Angie’s voice, normally so pleasant and warm, fairly dripped sarcasm from a hardened edge.

Lynn shook her head. “I’ve never had the pleasure.”

“You might want to keep it that way – she’d eat you up and spit you out in two sentences.”

Lynn snorted. “Yeah, like that’d work. Growing up with all those boys taught me verbal and physical self-defense tricks.”

Angie laughed. “Listen, sweet-as-sugar, your cousin the ex-Seal would have a hard time with her. That one is verbal competition for your mother.”

“Ange, no one is competition for my mother,” Lynn asserted.

“That one is – she could give Margaret a run for her money,” Angie asserted.

“You have **got** to be kidding,” Lynn said in amazement. “I’ve been there when your mother-in-law was administering an ass-kicking to Denny and your father-in-law. She’s world-class.”

Angie shook her head. “Trust me – Katie’s mouth is worse. And she has martial-arts training.”

“Based on what you’ve said about her, I don’t think we’re gonna be best buds any time soon,” Lynn said dryly.

“I wouldn’t think so, no. She went out with Chip, you know. Not long, though,” Angie hurried to explain.

“How long did they date?” Lynn asked, idly tracing designs on the tablecloth with her right index finger.

“Less than a week – then he showed her the door. Figuratively, of course, because he never takes anyone home.”

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “And you know this how?”

“Common knowledge – though it’s less common than I thought if She Who Hears Grass Grow doesn’t know about it,” Angie said dryly.

“I don’t hear everything,” Lynn protested.

“Uh-huh,” Angie said, each syllable dripping with skepticism.

They broke off as the waiter delivered a fresh carafe of ice water and a basket of dinner rolls with crocks of whipped butter to their table. Angie waited until the waiter was a safe distance away, then said, “Word is, he never saw the inside of Katie’s place, either.”

Lynn gave her a puzzled frown as she buttered a roll. “And this is important why?”

“It means he never slept with her,” Angie said. At Lynn’s puzzled expression, she said, “He always goes to his date’s place for…interpersonal interaction.”

“Oh-kay,” Lynn said with a raised eyebrow. “Too much information now, I think.”

Angie rolled her eyes. “Lynn, really – you have to get out of that dolphin tank once in a while and listen to the gossip.”

“Why bother? I have you to do it for me.”

Their lunch came then, and they dug in. Lynn’s broccoli and white cheddar quiche was delicious, and the side of baby greens was dressed with a fresh vinaigrette.

Angie dumped thousand island dressing on her Cobb salad, then reached for another sauce boat with more dressing and dumped that on top of the salad as well.

Lynn watched in amazement. “Man, I thought **I** liked a lot of dressing. Why don’t you just eat it with a spoon?”

“Don’t tempt me.” Angie gestured at her plate with her fork. “I keep wondering what it would take to get the recipe from Carla.”

“That’s easy,” Lynn said. “Mayo, ketchup, some sweet relish, and a touch of lemon juice.”

“She **told** you?” Angie asked in shock. “Carla never shares her recipes. What did you do to get it?”

Lynn shook her head. “No, she didn’t tell me – but that’s how I make mine, and it tastes pretty much the same.”

“ ‘Pretty much’ isn’t exact,” Angie asserted. “I’ve had your dressing – now I want to know how Carla makes hers, and ‘almost’ won’t cut it.”

“So ask her,” Lynn said.

“I like my head on my shoulders, thank you.” Angie sniffed. “Carla **never** gives out her recipes. The Admiral has been trying to get the secret of her coffee from her since he hired her, and she won’t tell him.”

“Suit yourself – but you’ll never know unless you ask.”

They fell silent for a while as they ate. Lynn’s quiche was savory and eggy with a flaky, buttery crust, and the baby greens served as a side complemented it perfectly.

Her plate clean, Lynn broke off a piece of roll and idly sopped up the remaining vinaigrette dressing. “Y’know…I thought I might send Commander Morton a thank-you note,” she said offhandedly, watching Angie out of the corner of her eye. “For all the help he gave me while I was aboard. Maybe.”

Angie’s head shot up and her eyes gleamed. “That’s a great idea! He’ll be sure to know you’re interested!”

Lynn sighed. “Ange, I said a thank-you note – not a love letter.”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s a great idea.” Angie caught sight of her watch and grabbed her purse. “I hate to eat and run, but the Admiral has a meeting and I have to get the conference room set up.” She stood and pushed her chair in. “Seriously, the thank-you note is a great idea. It’s so – **you**. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” Lynn agreed, signaled their waiter for the check, then watched Angie hurry away.

** *** **

After he returned to his office from a post-cruise meeting with Lee and Chief Sharkey, Chip opened his e-mail program and quickly scanned the sender names and subject lines, mentally sorting the list in order of importance. In a list of twenty-five new messages, the one from LCMURTAGH jumped out at him, and he opened it first.

It was timestamped just before noon. As he read it over, he thought that even if he hadn’t read the sender’s name, he’d have known exactly who had sent it just from the wording of the message.

Dear Commander Morton,

I just wanted to inform you that I’ll be submitting a paper on our recent sea trials with my dolphin team (two, actually, though I wouldn’t call my report for NIMR a formal paper). I’ll be submitting a piece to Cetacean Journal (after it meets with Commodore Emery’s approval, of course) which will detail the way they protected us from the shark on the initial dive. Other portions of the paper will detail the methods I used to acclimate them to a new diving partner – meaning you.

And that is the primary purpose of this message. Do I have your permission to reference you in the paper by name, or would you prefer that I refer to you simply as “one of _Seaview’s_ officers” or a variant thereof? I’ll refer to you by name in my report for NIMR, of course, since that’s exclusively an internal report(I’ll send you a copy of that, if you like). But it’s entirely your call as to how I refer to you in the paper for CJ.

Please let me know as soon as you can. I’ll be happy to comply with your wishes.

Lynn Murtagh

Marine Mammal Department.

Chip read the message through, then read it again. He found her decision to use e-mail rather than calling him on the phone to be rather interesting, and a bit puzzling.

Asking his permission was very considerate, yet not really necessary from his point of view. To his knowledge, he’d never previously been mentioned in any research papers, but he’d never been a participant in any research conducted by visiting scientists or by NIMR’s own resident researchers.

That still left the question – why not a phone call? Did she think that might seem too forward? Or was she just adhering to protocol? That was a mystery to ponder.

He read the message one last time, then composed an answer and sent it off.

** *** **

Lynn checked her e-mail as soon as she returned from lunch, and found a reply from Commander Morton in the queue. _That was fast,_ she thought. She knew he was efficient, but she hadn’t expected a return message to arrive while she was at lunch.

She opened the message and started to read.

Dear Dr. Murtagh,

I have no problem with you referring to me in your paper by my name, rank, and also my billet, should you choose to do so. I admit, this is a novelty – I’ve never been included in an article for a scientific journal before. Then again, I’ve never assisted any of the scientists we’ve taken aboard, or been attacked by a great white shark. So this was a cruise filled with firsts for me.

If I can be of any further assistance, don’t hesitate to contact me. We’re a full-service boat, remember.

C. Morton

SSRN Seaview

_Well, that was short and sweet_ , Lynn thought, but it was filled with his dry humor. But he’d given permission, so she needed to revise what she’d already written. Pulling her notes together, she started to work.

** *** **

Later that afternoon, Lynn tiredly read the draft copy of her paper over again. The prose was dry and stilted, and it made her wince involuntarily. “The Journal will love this,” she mumbled. The paper was as scientific as she could make it, and no aspect of her own personality emerged – perfect for such a prestigious publication as Cetacean Journal. She was very careful to keep any references to Commander Morton respectful and professional.

Her report for NIMR was, in her opinion, more reasonable. Still fairly formal, it nevertheless allowed some of her own personality to peep through, mainly in her observations of the behavior of the dolphins during their sojourn on _Seaview_.

The intercom buzzed. “Yeah, Mo,” Lynn said absently.

“Jack’s on line one. Are you available?”

Lynn briefly considered saying no, but realized that she’d have to take his call eventually; the longer she waited, the more impatient and intractable her older brother would be, and the less she’d like it when she finally spoke to him. She sighed and reached for the phone. “Put him through, Mo.”

“Yo, Sis, what’s up?”

“Nothin’ much, Johnnie Joe. I’m almost done here, and thinkin’ ’bout leavin’.” It was so easy to slip into a more relaxed vernacular when talking to Jack or Kevin, and Lynn did it without thinking. “Wanna feed me?”

“Supper’ll be on the table at five. Be here,” Jack replied.

“No problem. Kevin comin’?”

“Is the Pope Italian?”

“This one’s Polish,” Lynn said. “Remember?”

“Details, details. With you it’s always details,” Jack grumbled, then chuckled. “We’re having lasagna – your favorite. Ikey made enough to feed a battleship, so bring an appetite.”

“Ikey has to make enough to feed a battleship, the way your kids eat,” Lynn teased, then hung up.

** *** **

Lynn arrived at San Sarita shortly before five. Instead of driving directly to the ranch house, she stopped at a paddock on the blacktopped lane that led up to the house from the main road. The paddock’s resident, a big grey Thoroughbred gelding named Korbel, recognized her Jeep and came pounding down the hillside, snorting and ramping as Lynn jumped down from the car.

She climbed the fence and dropped into the paddock, reaching up to hug the horse, who rumbled deep in his throat and leaned against her, resting his jaw against her back in the equine version of a hug. “Rog, you big showoff,” she said fondly, stretching to scratch him on his poll, the sensitive area behind and between his ears. “I missed you too, my big boy.”

From the paddock across the wide drive came the clear tenor bugle of a young stallion. Lynn stepped back from Korbel and looked in the direction of the sound. There, silhouetted against the setting sun stood a red horse, tossing his head and nickering. Then he charged the fence.

Lynn climbed out of Korbel’s paddock and crossed to the other. The red Arabian stretched his neck over the fence toward her. She reached up to scratch his poll and he lowered his head even farther, releasing a deep sigh of pleasure.

“Hedonist,” she said affectionately, kissing the white blaze that bisected his soft red muzzle and ran under his lip to his chin. The horse _whuffed_ in return and Lynn scratched harder. “Bugsy, you’re such a big baby.”

Lynn checked her watch. “I have to go eat.” She reached up and gave the red horse a hug and a final pat to his neck, then returned to the Jeep and drove up to the ranch house.

Children of various ages surrounded her when she stepped down from her Jeep. She loved the attention, and was a bit disgruntled when Jack appeared to rescue her all too soon. She responded to his bear hug with an enthusiastic squeeze of her own. “Hi, guy.”

Jack sniffed the air. “You smell like horse – went down to see the boys first, huh?”

“Of course,” Lynn said, brushing red and white horse hairs off her tee shirt. “How could I pass them up?”

“With our DNA, it would be impossible,” Jack agreed. “How’d it go on _Seaview_?”

Now was not the best time to tell him about the shark attack, Lynn realized. Better to wait until reinforcements, in the form of Kevin, showed up. “Pretty good. We got some good footage of the sessions.” _Is that ever an understatement_? she said to herself.

“Finish your report?” Jack asked, his arm around her shoulders as he steered her into the house.

Lynn looked up at him quizzically. “Yeah,” she said. “First draft, at least. How’d you know?”

“Because you always get the most distasteful part of a job out of the way first,” Jack said smugly.

Lynn glared at him. “You know, Jack, I hate bein’ predictable.”

“You don’t have much choice around here, baby sis. I’ve known you too long.”

“To my everlasting regret,” Lynn said, smiling to take the sting from her words.

“Be nice, or you won’t get dinner,” Jack said.

“You don’t threaten anyone like that in my house, John Joseph Michael Murtagh,” said the tall blond woman by the sink. “Now sit down so I can feed these poor, starving children who are trying to convince me they haven’t eaten all day.”

“We’re not waiting for Kevin?” Lynn asked, taking a seat at the long farmhouse-style table between seven-year-old Megan and five-year-old Bridey.

Jack shook his head as he brought the salad bowls to the table. “He got called out on an emergency. One of the mares at Charisma Arabians is colicky.”

“Not just one of the mares, Jack,” Eileen corrected as she placed a steaming baking dish at one end of the table. “It’s the one they just paid a million dollars for.”

Jack scowled as he returned to the breakfast bar for a basket of garlic bread. “The stupidity of some people never fails to amaze me,” he said.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Eileen said as she came back to the table and deposited a second tray of lasagna at the other end. “I wouldn’t mind selling a couple of our mares for a million dollars per.”

“Wouldn’t work,” Jack said flatly. “Our stock’s mostly domestic. Domestic lines don’t have the cachet of the imports.”

“But they do more than just stand there and look pretty,” Lynn put in, portioning out lasagna for first her nieces, then a larger portion for herself.

“People in the breed today don’t want doers, Lynnie,” Jack said, in a disgusted voice. “There are a lot of absentee owners who buy a horse and leave it with a trainer. Halter horses are less work for a public trainer and bring in a lot more money and a ton of prestige.”

“And a nice tax deduction for the owner,” Eileen added “They both end up winners.”

“Preachin’ to the choir, guys,” Lynn said dryly.

“Can we talk about something besides business?” Sean asked.

“Like what?” Jack asked.

“Aunt Lynnie’s dolphins!” Bridey answered.

That was all it took; soon all of the Murtagh children were clamoring for details on their aunt’s research trip. Dinner passed in a flurry of questions that Lynn did her best to answer. Before she knew it, Eileen and Jack were beginning to clear the table, and shooing everyone away.

Eileen looked sternly at her offspring. “You all leave your aunt alone, now. She’s tired. And don’t you all have homework?” she asked pointedly. The answer was a jumble of mumbles and groans. “I thought as much. To your rooms, the lot of you. I’ll be up soon if anyone needs help.” She watched them leave, then turned to Lynn. “I have one more left to feed, and Jack can finish the cleanup. Do you think you can stand being alone for a while?”

“I’ll go help Jack,” Lynn offered.

“You’ll do no such thing,” Eileen said firmly. “You look like you’re about ready to drop.”

“Well….” Lynn said, not quite ready to concede the point.

Eileen shook her head and folded her arms in front of her. “Well, nothing. Go on into the family room. I saved a week’s worth of papers for you – the least you can do is read them.”

Lynn ducked her head in surrender. “Okay. Did Kev say how late he’d be?”

Eileen shook her head. “No. It’s tough to place a time value on a colic attack.”

“Yeah...I hope I’m still among the living when he gets here.”

“You **are** as tired as you look,” Eileen said sympathetically.

“Tired **er** ,” Lynn said, then gave her sister-in-law a puzzled smile. “Is that a word?”

“It is now,” Eileen said. “Go on in and relax. We’ll be in later.”

“Yes, Mom,” Lynn said, and turned away toward the family room that opened off the kitchen.

The papers were stacked near the fireplace. Lynn took up a sheaf and sprawled out along the couch to read. She was in the middle of an advance review of _The Empire Strikes Back_ when Kevin slipped into the room and dropped onto the couch next to her, lifting her legs and dropping them across his lap.

Lynn looked away from the paper, peering at her twin over the rims of her reading glasses. “Hi.”

“Hi?” he questioned. “We don’t see each other for a week, and all you can say to me is a half-hearted hi? Thanks a lot.”

Lynn reached out and patted his hand. “I don’t have enough energy left for anything besides ‘a half-hearted hi.’”

“That tired, huh?” Kevin asked, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

Lynn stuck her glasses atop her head. “Yeah. Lu told me to take a couple of days off but –”

“But you couldn’t leave the dolphins alone,” Kevin finished for her.

Lynn nodded. “Right again, Kev. They were so...so….” she said, gesturing with her hands as she searched for the right words to explain her feelings.

“Obedient?” Kevin asked.

Lynn met his gaze squarely. “More than that,” she said. “They saved my life.”

“They did what?” came from the doorway.

Lynn sighed in resignation and tossed the paper on the cocktail table. She’d hoped to tell Kevin – dear, accepting, non-judgmental Kevin – first, before she even thought about telling Jack. “I thought you were cleanin’ up,” she accused her older brother, sitting up.

“I’m finished,” he said flatly. “What’s this about the dolphins savin’ your life?” Arms folded across his wide chest, he stood in front of her, a forbidding expression on his face.

Lynn gestured toward the overstuffed club chair by the French windows. “Sit down. I’m not gonna say anything with you hovering over me like Donnie’s helo.”

Jack glared at her, but strode to the chair. “Now talk,” he ordered as he sprawled into it.

“Shoulda known you’d eavesdrop on a private conversation, Jack,” Lynn said. “Eavesdroppers never hear anything good.”

“Quit stallin’, Sis,” Jack ordered.

Lynn took a deep breath, then outlined the events of the past week, highlighting the less extraordinary moments and skimming over the details of the attack, which were still as vivid as the moment they’d taken place.

“You went back out again?” Jack demanded. “What the hell for?”

“It’s my job, Jack,” Lynn said calmly. “It was the reason for my being on _Seaview_ in the first place. I had to complete the tests.”

Jack looked as if he wanted to strangle her, and Kevin quickly interceded. “It’s like getting back on a horse after you’ve been thrown, Jack.”

“Goddamnit, Kevin!” Jack exploded. “A horse won’t take a chunk out of your insides or chomp off an arm or a leg!”

“Jack,” Lynn began, but Kevin squeezed her hand to silence her.

“There are risks you take when you dive, Jack. They’re acceptable, and most are minor. But they’re always there,” Kevin said firmly.

“It was a one in a million chance that a white would be there,” Lynn put in. “That’s not the usual territory for an adult at this time of year.”

“Yeah, Miss Expert? And what happens if next time is another one in a million?” Jack shot back.

“Then the dolphins will exhibit the same behavior,” Lynn said.

“How do you **know**?” Jack demanded.

“You’re in **my** territory now, Jack,” Lynn said softly.

“Ahhhh,” Jack growled, and stormed from the room.

Kevin looked after him, then turned to Lynn.

“Don’t say it,” she said, then sighed and rested her head against Kevin’s shoulder.

“Jack **is** a little protective,” Kevin said.

Lynn snorted. “Calling Jack ‘a little protective’ is like calling a shark a little-bitty fish.”

“Okay,” Kevin said agreeably. “Jack can be a real hardass at times. How’s that?”

“Kev, you’re not telling me anything I don’t know already,” Lynn said dryly.

“Yeah, but you always manage to get around him,” Kevin pointed out.

“It’s either that or bash his brains in.” She sighed. “Damn it, I knew this was gonna happen when I told him.”

“He loves you, Sis,” Kevin said, slouching to rest his head atop hers. “And he worries. We both worry.”

“I like your brand of worrying better. You do it quietly – it’s a lot easier on my nerves.”

“Not to mention your ears,” Kevin said dryly.

“Then I won’t mention them.”

“So the dolphins came to your rescue, huh?” Kevin asked. At Lynn’s nod, he said, “Looks like I won’t have to worry as much if your grey sheepdogs are around.”

“Yeah, they really did a job. I…uh….”

“What?”

“I can show you a tape of the attack, if you want to see it,” Lynn said hesitantly.

Kevin tensed, then forced himself to relax. “I’m not sure my nerves could take it.”

“Yeah. It’s a little...unnerving. Listen,” she said brightly, changing the subject, “I’d like you to take a look at the dolphins. I treated their scrapes, but....”

“But you’d feel better if I looked at them,” Kevin finished for her.

“Yeah. I want a real doctor to look at them.”

Kevin snorted. “You do okay on your own. I’m a horse doctor, remember?”

“A DVM carries more weight in this case than a PhD with a vet tech license,” Lynn mumbled.

“All right – you win. When do you want me there?” Kevin asked. When he received no answer, he lifted his head and looked at his sister. She was sound asleep. Kevin smiled fondly and settled his head atop hers.

A short while later he heard a noise at the door of the family room, and looked up to see a disgruntled Jack standing there. He held his finger to his lips to caution Jack to remain silent. Jack shook his head, then walked to the club chair next to the couch. He looked at the two bright heads so close together. “What a tender scene.”

Kevin allowed a sly smile to touch his lips. “Jealous?” he asked, feeling only a slight twinge of conscience for asking. He knew very well that his older brother was jealous of the close relationship Kevin and Lynn shared, as he himself was jealous of the different, yet just as special relationship Jack shared with Lynn. But he couldn’t resist twitting his older brother, paying him back in part for the scene earlier.

Jack glared at his younger brother. “I’m too mad to be jealous,” he growled. “Damn it, Kevin, she could have gotten killed!”

“Don’t start that again,” Kevin hissed. “We’ve been all through it, and backtracking won’t help.”

“Her little confession didn’t bother you?” Jack demanded.

“It bothered me,” Kevin affirmed. “More than it bothered you.”

“Sure,” Jack scoffed. “Your special bond, I suppose.”

“That’s right,” replied an unfazed Kevin. Jack had always scoffed, but Kevin and Lynn did have a special relationship, one they’d long known was unique. Kevin had heard Jack’s disbelief too many times before to be bothered now. “We don’t need you to confirm what we both know.”

Jack shook his head. “Damned if you don’t sound just like her.”

“Is that so strange?” Kevin asked. “We shared a womb for nine months.”

Jack shrugged. “I suppose not.”

An uncomfortable silence fell between them, broken only by Lynn’s rhythmic breathing. The two brothers looked everywhere but at each other, avoiding each other’s eyes and accusing glances.

Kevin finally spoke into the stillness. “You’re entitled to worry about her,” he said softly. “But that’s all. You’ve got to cut her some slack. We’re not kids anymore.”

“Old habits are hard to break,” Jack admitted softly. “It’s hard not to worry about her, especially with the job she has.”

“I know. I worry about her too,” Kevin admitted.

“He’s just not as insulting about it as you are, Jackie,” Lynn put in sleepily. “He respects my judgment.”

“I thought you were asleep,” Jack snapped.

“I was,” Lynn said, pushing herself into a more erect position, “until you two started yappin’.” She yawned widely. “So much for my beauty sleep. Thanks for bein’ a pillow, Kev.”

“Anytime,” Kevin replied. “But I’m glad you woke up when you did. My shoulder was gettin’ a little stiff.”

“I’m glad I woke up, too. I gotta roll.” She stood and looked uncertainly at Jack.

Jack rose from his chair and looked steadily at his sister. “You...uh...take it easy, okay?”

Lynn nodded. “I’m gonna try.” She crossed the distance between them and threw her arms around his neck. “Thanks for caring,” she whispered. “Even if it **does** drive me nuts.”

“Hey,” Jack replied, squeezing her back, “it’s part of the territory.”

“Yeah,” Lynn said ruefully, pulling away. “I know.”

“Rehearsal tomorrow night at seven,” Kevin reminded her. “Don’t forget.”

“Have I ever?” Lynn asked, and strode out of the room.


	2. Will Wonders Never Cease?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

On the way in to work, Lynn stopped at Quick-Chek, a twenty-four-hour convenience store located on her route to work. Once inside, she headed for the greeting card aisle.

Their thank-you note section was pretty sparse, but she was able to find a card that was minimally fussy in appearance and gave a professional impression. She grabbed a couple of Nestle Crunch bars on her way to the register, , then headed out to her Jeep, whistling the sax solo from _Jungleland_.

Once in the dolphin lab, Lynn dropped the bag with the card and candy on her lab desk and ran up the steps to the dolphin pool. The three dolphins greeted her eagerly. With a training session scheduled for later that afternoon, she spent only a few minutes with them before leaving for her office to go through the morning’s queue of e-mail.

But before she opened her e-mail program, she emptied the bag of her purchases. She stashed the candy bars in her desk drawer, then picked up the thank-you card. Tapping the card thoughtfully against the palm of her left hand, she considered what she wanted to say. She truly was thankful for Commander Morton’s help, but she didn’t want to come across as fawning. Instead of opening her e-mail program to check her messages, she opened her word processor and started typing out a stream-of-consciousness draft.

Finished, she propped her chin in her hands and studied the screen, then typed, backspaced, deleted, typed again, then deleted some more, hoping to distill what she wanted to say from the morass of words that stared back at her from her monitor.

After a few minutes, she had a draft she was marginally happy with. Printing it out, she read it over.

Lynn chewed on her bottom lip. _It’s not a research paper you’re submitting, for cryin’ out loud,_ she chided herself. _Just write the damned card already_. She took an aqua pen she used for personal correspondence, wrote the card exactly as she’d typed the draft, slipped it into the envelope, grabbed the binder with her official report for Lucius, then left her office before she could change her mind.

Lynn walked the card over to the main mail room in the basement of the Administration Building, then headed up to Lucius’s office, opting for the stairs over the elevator. As the head of the Marine Biology Department, he had a large and airy office on the third floor, fairly near the main stairwell.

She instantly recognized the Chopin polonaise playing on the small stereo. “I didn’t know you liked Freddie, Lu,” she said, walking up to his desk.

Lucius glared up at her. “Only you would refer to Frederick Chopin as ‘Freddie’.”

Lynn grinned at him. “I’m Irish – I’m allowed.”

“Your talent as a pianist allows it – not your ancestry.” He shifted his gaze to the object in Lynn’s hand. “Is that your report?”

Lynn tossed a pressboard binder in the signature light blue of the Cetacean Department onto Lucius’s desktop. “Yup,” she said, sitting in the leather chair in front of the desk and tucking her legs underneath her.

“Your speed impresses me.” Lucius flipped through the binder quickly, then looked at Lynn, a mischievous expression on his round face. “This is it?” he asked. “Don’t you know scientists are supposed to be wordy?”

Lynn shrugged and leaned back. “Sorry, Lu. I talk a lot, but I don’t write for the sake of putting words on the page. The salient facts are all there, though. Trust me.”

“And the paper for CJ?” Lucius pressed.

“Is suitably wordy, and suitably dry,” Lynn assured him. “I know what they expect. I’ll have the draft to you as soon as I can get stills off the tape of the great white’s attack. I’ve booked time with Bill Fletcher in the Computer Department – he’ll get the stills I need.”

“Serendipitous,” Lucius said dryly.

“That’s an odd term to apply to a shark attack, Lu,” Lynn said with a raised eyebrow.

“But appropriate in this case.” Lucius studied her for a moment, then asked, “How did you like your maiden voyage?”

Lynn’s eyes gleamed, and she unconsciously leaned forward in the chair. “Think the Admiral would want to have a marine biologist on board permanently? I loved it, Lu. It was so much more than I’d imagined. That glass nose....”

Lucius smiled slyly. “I thought Harry’s front porch would impress you.”

Lynn’s smile widened. “Front porch…what a perfect description for it.”

“How did you like working with Chip?”

Lynn drew back slightly. “You mean Commander Morton?”

“Formal,” Emery said, raising a questioning eyebrow. “That’s not like you.

“That’s how it went, Lu,” Lynn said firmly.

“Mmmm-hmm. And you still haven’t answered my question,” he prodded.

Lynn frowned slightly, then relaxed. “I like him. He’s a nice guy. Very competent, very professional. He was a huge help with the dolphins. And I think Maxie has a crush on him.” She wasn’t about to tell Lucius that she appeared to be developing a crush on him right along with the female dolphin.

If Lucius noticed the deft deflection toward Maxie’s feelings and away from Lynn’s, he made no comment. “You acquitted yourself well. Harry was quite impressed with your willingness to continue after the shark attack. I believe he referred to it as ‘moxie’.”

Lynn shrugged, feigning indifference, but remembering the terror she had felt when the great white had gone for her, only to be attacked in turn by her two male bottlenose dolphins. “It’s like fallin’ off a horse, Lu. You have to get right back on again.”

“Something you have a lot of experience at doing, I’m sure.”

Lynn grinned. “I’ve gotten my share of bruises from bitin’ the dust.”

Lucius cleared his throat. “Yes...well, as I’ve said, Harriman is very impressed with your conduct. He was especially pleased that you stayed out of the control room crew’s way.”

“I would have liked to watch, but it wasn’t really any of my business,” she said wistfully.

Lucius smiled slyly. “Maybe next time.”

Lynn sat bolt upright. “Next time?”

Lucius nodded. “You impressed our Admiral. He’s indicated that you’ll be seeing more of _Seaview_ in the future.”

“You’re not yankin’ my chain, are you, Lu?”

“No,” the little man said simply. “You will be seeing more of _Seaview_ in the future, as circumstances warrant.”

“For real?” she asked. At Lucius’ solemn nod, she shook her head. “Hot damn.”

“Prosaic, as usual,” Lucius said dryly. “Do not take this to mean that you will be going aboard within the next day or so. _Seaview_ ’ _s_ schedule is highly fluid.”

“You just let me know when, Lu, and I’ll be there.”

“With...bells on, I believe is the term?”

“Yeah,” Lynn said and grinned. “Jingle, cathedral, and blue.”

Lucius waved dismissively at the door. “Off now. I have more important things to do than sit around and jaw.” He frowned. “Did I get that one right?”

Lynn grinned at her usually staid boss and gave him a thumbs-up gesture. “You did. Let me know if you need anything in the report expanded, okay?”

“Hmmm,” Lucius responded absently, already back at work.

Lynn chuckled and left the office, waving goodbye to Amelia Konn, Lucius’s longtime secretary.

The journey back to her office took her past the administrative offices of _Seaview_ ’s command crew. She unconsciously slowed her steps as she passed the door to the suite of offices that contained Chip Morton’s office.

He’d been on her mind a lot since she’d left _Seaview._ She supposed that wasn’t so strange; they had, after all, faced near-death together. Still, it was odd that she’d spent so much time thinking about him, or any man, for that matter. She didn’t usually have the time to devote to speculation. Most of her attention span was taken up by her work, her horses, or her role in the band.

But he was a nice guy, and she’d enjoyed the time they’d spent together. It would be nice to see him again. Lynn briefly thought about stopping in his office for a visit; just as quickly as the thought had appeared, it disappeared. It wouldn’t do to look too eager. The thank-you note would be sufficient. She quickened her pace and made for the elevator.

** *** **

Half of the quarterly crew evaluations completed and filed with Crane and Nelson, and the reprovisioning orders completely filled out and given to Chris Hodges, _Seaview’s_ Supply Officer, Chip Morton pushed back in his chair and loosened his tie. The stack of quarterly evaluations that remained to be reviewed sat on his desk, waiting for his attention, but it was tedious, detail-oriented work, and he was overdue for a break.

He rose, crossed to the window and threw it open. The late May day was warm, though thankfully not with the oppressive humidity that could descend on his native New Jersey at this time of year. A faint breeze laden with the scent of the Pacific swept in and he breathed deeply.

He happened to look down just as a slim tee-shirt-and-jeans-clad figure moved into his field of vision. An unconscious smile tugged at his lips at the image she conveyed. She walked with a boy’s easy gait, but the swing of her hips was definitely not boyish. He half-expected her to start skipping down the walk, and wasn’t surprised to see her start to swing her arms, clapping as she brought them behind her back. She evinced such a joy in living and he again felt a rush of relief that her life hadn’t been snuffed out just a few days before.

He’d come to expect the unforeseen on _Seaview_. The massive sub got into all sorts of trouble. Yet she was a lucky boat and usually brought everyone home, no matter what the circumstances. The crew might come through somewhat the worse for wear, but most of the time, they came home in one piece.

Yes, he’d come to expect the unforeseen on _Seaview_ , but nothing like the near-miss he’d witnessed just days earlier. That had been not only unforeseen, but also harrowing.

He also expected most of the scientists they ferried or hosted to get into some sort of trouble, but not this one. She’d minded her own business for the most part; had engaged in conversation and discussions with the crew and had been made welcome by officers and enlisted alike. She’d fit in quite easily. And despite the way she had of seeming to speak whatever was on her mind at the moment, Chip realized she thought most things through before she spoke. The bouncy, outgoing young woman was a dedicated and practical research scientist, who, while delightfully spontaneous, was highly disciplined when at work.

Suddenly, she rounded the corner of the building and moved out of sight. Chip remained at the window for a few moments longer, looking toward the Pacific, then returned to his desk. Out of curiosity – or so he told himself – he decided to call up her open personnel file on his desktop terminal. Containing her educational and employment histories as well as professional credits and a modicum of personal data, it was intended to be used as the source for official press releases about the Institute and its personnel, and, as such, was not restricted.

The file soon filled the screen. She was thirty-two – or she would be, in late July – a little more than four years younger than he was. That surprised him – he thought she looked younger than that. He idly noted that her birthday was two days earlier than his sister Kate’s, and he smiled when he remembered that she’d referred to herself as a “textbook case” Leo. He read on. She’d accomplished quite a lot in the ten years since she’d graduated from the marine biology program at Fairleigh Dickenson University, graduating in three-and-a-half years instead of four – then immediately entering an accelerated program for a combined master’s/doctorate at UCSB, attaining her doctorate at the age of twenty-four. She’d become Director of Education at Mystic Marinelife Aquarium four years later, before leaving Mystic in mid-1977 and joining the Nelson Institute in early 1978. Her list of scholarly publications was fairly extensive, but she’d also written three critically acclaimed children’s books on whales and dolphins as well as _Do Dolphins Dream?,_ a book on dolphins for adult general audiences, and had somehow found the time to obtain a vet tech’s license and complete a masters degree in modern American history at the University of Connecticut while she was working at Mystic. He shook his head. _Busy lady,_ he thought, but somehow, it didn’t surprise him. From what he’d seen, it seemed she had enough energy for any three people.

He sat back in his leather chair. Why was he suddenly so curious about her? She was vastly different from the women he’d always thought of as his type, but then, he’d hardly looked beyond a woman’s face and figure for some years now. Why now, of all times and with this particular woman, did he feel a need to look deeper?

It was odd that he felt even slightly attracted to her. Not that she wasn’t pretty – she was, in her own subdued, wholesome way. But the girl next door had never been his type – and if anyone fit that very clichéd description, it was Doctor Lynn Murtagh.

Still, there was something appealing about her, something that kept calling her to his mind. He’d been out with Gina the previous Saturday, and Roseanne on Tuesday, and both times, thoughts of Doctor Murtagh had run through his mind at the oddest, most inappropriate moments. It had been very distracting, and both women had unfortunately noticed. He’d have to mend some bridges with both of them.

He closed the file. There was work left to do, and daydreaming about the marine biologist, no matter how intriguing she was becoming to him, wouldn’t get any of it done for him. He pulled the remaining stack of crew evaluations toward him and set to work.

** *** **

Maureen’s voice came over the intercom, interrupting Lynn as she sorted through diving equipment supply requisitions. “Lisa Baker for you on line one, Lynn. She sounds hungry.”

Lynn smiled at that and put the phone on speaker while she continued to work on the requisitions. “Hey, nurse Lisa, how are you?”

“Just fine, dolphin lady. I hear you were the hit of the underwater set.”

Lynn snickered. “Really? You and Larry must have some interesting pillow talk.”

A low chuckle came over the line. “I hear paper rustling – are you drowning in paperwork?

“Not quite – but almost.”

“Want to go for lunch?”

Lynn checked her desk planner – she was free all afternoon, her paper for _CJ_ needed to percolate a bit, and the requisitions weren’t at all pressing. “Sounds good to me. Regular time?”

“Sounds good. See you in the dining room.”

** *** **

Lynn slid into the lone vacant chair at the table. “Sorry I’m late,” she apologized to the four women already there. “Feeding took a little longer today.”

Angie sniffed the air. “Ah – I thought I smelled Eau de Mackerel. Stunning. It’s really you.”

Lynn stuck her tongue out at her and picked up the menu.

“How’s it feel to be back in harness?” Tish Sweetly asked.

“Busy. Work piled up while I was gone and then I had my reports and article to write.”

“Sounds like fun,” Lola Hale said.

“Oh, the reports were a lot of fun – you know how I hate them. I’m still working on the article for _Cetacean_ _Journal_.” Lynn shrugged. “But you gotta do what you gotta do.”

“Too bad you can’t teach your dolphins to write,” Lisa Baker said.

“Hey, I’m workin’ on it,” Lynn told her. “But they have a tough time holding a pen with their flippers,” she said, making writing motions with her hand.

They ordered, then Lisa turned to Lynn. “So, what was it like on _Seaview_?”

“Unbelievable,” Lynn said with a broad smile. “ _Seaview_ is gorgeous.”

“Spoken like a true Navy brat,” Lola said.

Lynn shook her head. “The accident of my parentage had nothing to do with it. I think she should have a John Williams soundtrack as standard equipment, though.”

“And the guys?” asked Tish. “How were they?”

“Perfect gentlemen – as in officers and. They made me feel right at home.” She took a sip of her water. “Everyone did.”

“Did – um – anyone put a move on you?” Lola asked.

Lynn briefly looked at Angie out of the corner of her eye, then raised an eyebrow. “Now, what makes you ask that?”

Lisa made a face at Lola. “Lynn said they were gentlemen, remember?”

“Yes, but –”

“But what?” Lynn asked, knowing exactly where this line of questioning was heading.

“We heard Chip was your liaison,” Lola continued.

“Didja, now?” Lynn asked, allowing her always-evident Jersey accent to broaden as she slanted an accusing glance at Angie.

“Yes. Maureen was very efficient in getting the word out,” Tish said.

Lynn looked directly at Angie, who made a face at her. “So?” Lynn challenged.

“Well, we all know his reputation and –”

Lisa sighed. “Lola, he was on duty. Officers on duty don’t make passes at passengers.”

“Is that the Navy version of ‘Guys don’t make passes at girls who wear glasses’?” Tish teased.

Lola ignored her. “What about when he was off duty?” she pressed.

Angie jumped in before Lynn could reply. “XOs are never off duty. Right, Lynn?”

“So I’ve been told,” Lynn said non-committally.

“So he **didn’t** make a pass at you,” Lola persisted.

“I think I just said that,” Lynn said calmly. _Don’t let them know how interested you are_ , she warned herself. _Stay cool_.

“Oh.”

“Disappointed?” Lynn asked.

“Well....”

“That’s okay – you aren’t the only one. I think Maureen was hoping he’d sweep me off my feet.”

“And did he?” Lola asked, brightening.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “What do I look like – dust?”

The other women chuckled at that.

“The guys are great, though, aren’t they?” Angie asked to deflect attention. “What a great group. And they fill out those uniforms so nicely.”

Lynn shook her head. “Angie, you’re a happily married woman. You’re not supposed to drool.”

“I’m married, Lynn –not dead,” Angie chided good-naturedly. “I can still look. Besides, there’s something about a man in a uniform.”

“If you say so,” Lynn said.

“Don’t tell me you’re immune,” Lola scoffed.

“I’ve been around Navy blue – or khaki – all my life,” Lynn said dismissively. “It doesn’t hold any mystery for me.”

“Not even a little?” Tish asked.

“Not even a smidgen,” Lynn said pleasantly.

Angie laughed. “Come on, Lynn, you know what I mean.”

“Yeah, I do – and they **were** great – though the Admiral was a little daunting,” Lynn admitted.

Angie nodded. “Yes, he can be that – but you’ll get used to him. And he has a lot of respect for your work.” She grinned. “He said you have a lot of guts, too – and that’s high praise from him.”

Lynn nodded. “Lucius said he called it moxie.”

“Lee and Chip were impressed, too,” Angie said.

Lynn raised an eyebrow and attempted to appear nonchalant. “Oh? And how do you come by this little tidbit?”

Angie shrugged. “They’re in and out of Nelson’s office all the time. I hear all sorts of interesting things. They had their post-cruise meeting on Tuesday.”

“What **is** it with the secretaries in this place?” Lynn asked of no one in particular.

“Administrative assistant, if you please,” Angie reminded her. “And a good subordinate has to be well-informed to keep her boss up on things – especially when he owns the facility.” Angie’s smile bordered on smugness.

“Ange, this goes beyond well-informed.” Lynn shook her head. “Man – Maureen has nothing on you.”

“We aim to please.” Angie smiled and reached for a roll.

“Smugness doesn’t become you,” Tish chided.

Lisa chuckled. “I don’t know – I think she wears it pretty well.”

“Chip and Lee are full of all sorts of interesting information,” Angie went on, genially ignoring Lisa. “And that’s just on the subjects they can talk about.”

“Oh, I just bet they are,” Lynn agreed.

“Larry said you two hit it off famously,” Lisa said.

Lynn nodded. “Your husband’s a nice guy. Too bad he roots for the Red Sox. That’s a severe character flaw, y’know.”

Lisa shook her head “I didn’t mean Larry – though I **will** agree he’s a nice guy,” she said with a smile. “No, I was talking about Chip.”

“Oh?” Lynn raised an eyebrow and tried her best to look nonchalant and ignore Angie’s smirk. “What else did Larry say?”

“That you two acted like long-lost friends.”

“That’s it? He confined his comments to my interaction with Commander Morton?”

“Well, Larry said everyone was pleased that you beat the crap out of Bobby O’Brien at his own game.”

“That was easy,” Lynn told her. “And he’s harmless – isn’t he?”

Lisa laughed outright. “Definitely. Too big for his britches sometimes, but perfectly harmless.”

“He’s a nice kid. They were all nice.”

“Yeah – they’re a good group. They get together regularly at our house for poker or to watch ball games,” Lisa said. “The junior officers, that is – department heads and division officers. Admiral Nelson never graces us with his presence, but Chip and Lee come fairly often – usually for things like the Super Bowl, the World Series, the Masters, or the Army-Navy Game. It’s not a weekly thing for them like it is with the junior officers, though.”

“The loneliness of command,” Lynn mused. “Although from the stories I’ve heard, neither Lee nor Commander Morton are too lonely.”

“Lee?” Lola asked. “My, you two got chummy in a hurry.”

“He told me to call him Lee,” Lynn retorted with some asperity. “I certainly wouldn’t take that liberty on my own.”

“Of course not,” Lisa said hurriedly in an attempt to defuse the situation. She glared at Lola. “And from what I know of them,” she said, “their reputations are more talk than action.”

“There are some women who would have you believe otherwise,” Angie said.

“You mean Katie?” Lola asked, distaste dripping from every word.

“Does every woman here hate her?” Lynn asked, then turned to Angie. “How come I never heard of her until we went to lunch yesterday?”

“Because you spend more time with those dolphins than you do with other humans,” Tish said dryly.

“Lynn, you really should surface once in a while and listen to the gossip,” Angie chided, smiling. “Katie Leydon, the Admiral’s fair-haired girl – though she occasionally dyes it red – with the mysterious past. She does all of the security checks. Has connections at ONI, DIA, FBI-- some even say CIA.”‘

“They call her the Landshark,” Tish supplied.

“Too bad you can’t send your dolphins after her,” Lola said.

“I hear she’s gone after every unattached male here,” Lisa put in.

“And some of the attached males, too,” Angie said.

“She’s been after Chip and Lee for years,” Lisa told Lynn. “I think she and Chip even dated for a while, didn’t they, Angie?”

“A very short while.” Angie sniffed her disapproval. “And then his inherent good taste reasserted itself. But it’s no secret she’d like to get him back.”

“I take it none of you care for her?” Lynn asked looking from one woman to the other.

Lola gazed at her levelly. “Not particularly.”

“Very few women around here like her,” Lisa said. “She has an attitude.”

“What kind of attitude?”

“The worst kind,” Angie explained. “She's a venomous creature. Holier than thou, and better, too. She’s condescending to virtually every other woman who works here.” She paused as if considering what to say next. “She’s a predator – but the Admiral realizes that, and he uses that to his advantage. It hasn’t won her any friends, however.”

“That's a lovely shade of bitch you're wearing today, Ange,” Lynn pointed out.

“Where the Landshark is concerned, I wear it every day,” Angie said. “And you would too, if you knew her. And you're a fine one to talk, Alfie.”

“That's Doctor Alfie to you, Mrs. Pierce,” Lynn teased.

“Alfie?” Lola asked in confusion.

“It's the sanitized version of Alpha Bitch, which is what her brothers call her,” Lisa said.

“Wow.” Tish looked appalled. “Really?”

“It's actually a compliment,” Lynn assured her.

“I'll take your word for it,” Tish said dubiously.

“No, seriously – it's what you call the highest-ranking female in a pack of wolves or hounds,” Lynn said. “And, like it or not, my family comes pretty close to the definition of a pack at times.”

“What about your mother?” Lola asked.

“My mother is three thousand miles away,” Lynn said patiently. “She doesn’t even enter into the equation out here. Separate packs – and she’s got the Jersey pack well in hand.”

“I’d love be there to see you tell her that,” Angie mumbled.

Lynn kicked her under the table.

“And Eileen?” Tish asked.

“She's the Boss Mare,” Angie said.

“You have such a strange family,” Lola said.

Lynn shrugged. “It works for us.”

“You have to admit, Katie is good at what she does,” Tish admitted grudgingly, bringing the discussion back to the original subject. “She’s just not likeable.”

“That’s an understatement,” Lisa muttered.

“Hear, hear,” Lola said, raising her water glass.

“I haven’t run into her yet,” Lynn mused.

“You don’t want to,” Tish said. “She’d eat you up – you’re too nice.”

Lynn looked at Tish over her water glass. “You say that like it’s a liability.”

“To Katie, it is,” Angie said flatly. “Now, let’s change the subject – this one is ruining my appetite.”

** *** **

After they finished lunch, the quintet split up: Lola and Tish went back to the Operations Center, while Angie returned to her office in the Administration Building. Lynn and Lisa walked along together toward their respective offices in the Marine Mammal Building and the Infirmary, which were located close together.

“It was nice to get together with you guys,” Lynn said. “It's been a while.”

“Interesting how the discussion seemed to revolve around Chip,” Lisa mused. “You had a lot of questions – did you get the answers you wanted?”

“You’re almost as bad as Angie,” Lynn complained.

“Oh, Angie noticed it too?” Lisa asked with a delighted smile. “That’s right – you two went to lunch alone the other day . I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that meal. She’s the one to ask if you have any questions – she and Chip are pretty good friends."

“Lisa, it’s not like I have designs on the man, for Pete’s sake!” Lynn protested. “We worked together on a project. We’re only acquaintances – not even friends...although....”

“Although what?” Lisa asked, hazel eyes bright.

Lynn looked off into the distance. “It felt like we could be friends one day. Not that that would be so unusual – I have a lot of friends wearing Navy blue.”

“Larry said you seemed to be very comfortable on board.”

Lynn shrugged. “I’ve been around Navy types most of my life. These guys are just one step removed from the sub officers I knew in New London. And I grew up the only girl in a family full of boys, remember.”

Lisa nodded. “He also said you seemed to be very taken with Chip.”

Lynn gave her a sideways glance. “Your husband talks a lot, doesn’t he?”

“Larry is pretty observant – he’s like you, sees all, hears all.” Lisa shook her head, smiling fondly. “He doesn’t miss much.”

Lynn snorted. “Angie doesn’t, either. Of course, whether or not what she sees actually exists in reality is a different subject entirely.”

Lisa smiled. “Angie has a big soft spot for Chip. I guess you could tell that by the way she talked about him.”

“Yeah, Angie and I have had this discussion.”

“You two should get along well – I think you’d make a nice couple,” Lisa said thoughtfully.

“Is every woman at this facility a closeted matchmaker?” Lynn asked.

Lisa ignored that. “Although he does tend to date women who are a lot more – worldly – than you are.”

“Worldly?” Lynn repeated. “Geez, Lise, you make it sound like I’m a nun.”

Lisa gave her a strange smile. “Compared to some of Chip’s women, you are.”

Lynn stopped and crossed her arms across her chest. “Lise, why are you telling me this?”

“Word is Chip was very taken with you, too.”

“Oh. ‘Word is’?” Lynn raised a skeptical eyebrow. “And where did this ‘word’ come from?”

“Different sources,” Lisa said coyly.

“Such as?”

“Larry, for one. Bobby O’Brien, for another.”

“Oh. Them.” Lynn sniffed. “Don’t believe everything you hear -- especially from a Red Sox fan.”

“These are reliable sources,” Lisa asserted. "Especially the Red Sox fan."

“I don’t doubt that. But reliable sources can have overactive imaginations, too,” Lynn pointed out.

“Larry’s not the type to see something that isn’t there,” Lisa asserted.

“I guess I’ll have to take your word for that,” Lynn said dismissively.

“You might not have to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lynn asked, quelling her irritation.

“Larry thought, well....” Lisa’s voice trailed off uncertainly.

“Thought what?”

“That you might have gotten a phone call by now.”

“A phone call?” Lynn asked, playing dumb. “What kind of phone call?”

“Lynn! You know what I mean!” Lisa chided. “It’s been how long now? Three days?”

“You mean a phone call asking me to go out on a date?” Lynn shook her head. “No, I haven’t gotten one – and I don’t think I will.”

“I don’t know about that.” Lisa smiled knowingly. “Chip’s never paid that kind of attention to any visitor before – even the pretty ones.”

Lynn shoved her hands into her pockets and sighed. “Lise, he was my liaison – he **had** to pay attention to me.”

“Not the kind of attention Larry said he paid you,” Lisa rebutted. “Larry said you two were pretty thick – Chip practically squired you all over _Seaview_.”

“ **Squired** me?” Lynn’s mouth dropped open. “No offense, Lise, but Larry’s the thick one here. Rooting for the Red Sox must have rotted his brain.”

“Lynn....” Lisa hesitated before going on. “If you’re interested, I can pass the word on.”

“Oh, no,” Lynn said firmly. “I’ve never thrown myself at a man in my life and I’m not about to start now.”

Lisa jumped on that. “So you **are** interested.”

“I didn’t say that,” Lynn said hastily.

Lisa jumped on that. “You didn’t have to.”

Lynn sighed. “Lise, if he’s interested – and that’s a pretty big if – he knows where to find me, and he’ll let me know. If not....” She shrugged. “I’m not going to worry about something that almost certainly won’t happen.”

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because I'm not hunk-bait.”

“So you think he's a hunk?” Lisa asked quickly.

“I think he's very good-looking,” Lynn allowed. “But any woman with a pulse would think the same thing.”

“I wouldn't know,” Lisa said.

“Come on, Lisa,” Lynn scoffed. “Like Angie said, you're married, not dead.”

Lisa shook her head firmly. “That doesn't apply to senior officers.”

“Oh, is that how it works?” Lynn asked, raising one eyebrow in amusement.

“It does for me – but you're not married, or even dating anyone. You don't have the same restrictions.”

Lynn shook her head. “But if things go right, we'll be working together again in the future. I don't want to mess things up.”

“What makes you think you would?”

“Murphy's Law – and my grandmother Ashleen was a Murphy before she became a Cullen. Murphy loves to torture his relatives.”

Lisa put her hand on Lynn’s arm, stopping her. “What would you do if he **did** call?”

“That’s another big if, Lise,” Lynn hedged.

“Come on, indulge me,” Lisa encouraged her. “What would you do?”

Lynn chewed her lower lip briefly. “I wouldn’t say no. But that won’t happen.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I can usually tell when someone is interested in me – and I didn’t get that vibe from him at all.” Lynn shook her head. “He was nice, and kind, and helpful, and friendly, and respectful – and businesslike. That’s all.”

Lisa shook her head. “Suit yourself. But I’d be listening for the phone if I were you.” And she ran up the steps into the Infirmary.

** *** **

Back from a quick lunch, Chip leaned a hip against his desk and flipped through the afternoon’s stack of interoffice mail waiting for him on his blotter. One piece of mail caught his attention. A rectangular envelope, it was the size and shape of a birthday card. The envelope itself was a pale peach, addressed to “Lieutenant Commander Morton, Administration Building” in a neat, vertical handwriting. A puzzled smile crossed his face as he considered it – it wasn’t the type of thing he would expect to receive in interoffice mail.

Marion had already opened it, and he frowned at that. While it wasn’t marked “Personal and Confidential,” it didn’t appear to be official correspondence either, and Marion shouldn’t have taken it upon herself to open it. He’d have to have a word with her about that, as little as the idea appealed to him.

Curious, he seated himself behind his desk and removed the card. The front of the card was also pale peach, with raised script in a silvery grey, saying simply, “Thank you.” Inside, the card was blank, with a simple handwritten message:

Dear Commander Morton,

Thank you for your assistance and the kindness you extended to us while the dolphins and I were aboard Seaview last week. The tests wouldn’t have been nearly as successful as they were if I hadn’t had your help.

Cheers,

Lynn Murtagh

(and Sammy, Maxie, and Leo, too)

Chip shook his head and gave a wry smile. This was a first – a thank-you note from a researcher, and her dolphins, to boot! He considered the aqua ink she’d used, a definite personal touch that wasn’t at all surprising.

Chip slipped the card back into the envelope and put it away in his desk. No sense leaving it out where Lee might see it – Lee didn’t need any more ammunition than he already had in his possession.

** *** **

Lee Crane signed the report, tossed the file folder onto his desk, leaned back, tugged at the knot of his tie, and shot his exec a look of utter disgust. “That’s it – no more. I’m exhausted. This’ll keep until I come back.”

Chip, as crisp and proper-looking as usual, smirked at him. “I tend to forget how much you hate paperwork.”

“And I tend to forget how you thrive on it,” Crane said sourly.

Chip shook his head. “I don’t thrive on it. I just handle it better than you do. And I always have.” He looked at the clock on Lee’s desk. “Sixteen hundred? It’s later than I thought.”

“Paperwork makes normal people lose track of time,” Lee pointed out. “I wasn’t aware it had the same effect on you.”

Chip glared at him, then gave him a resigned half-smile. “What time is your flight to LaGuardia tomorrow morning, again?”

“Eleven hundred.”

Chip nodded. “I’ll pick you up at oh-six-thirty. That should get us to LAX in plenty of time, even with traffic.”

“Thanks.” Crane swiveled his chair around and propped his left ankle atop his right knee. “What are you doing tomorrow night?”

Chip looked at him curiously. “Why?”

“I was just wondering which lovely lady will be enjoying the pleasure of your company this weekend? The lovely April, the sultry Gina, or,” and here Crane lowered his voice to a theatrical whisper, “the voluptuous Roseanne?”

“None of them,” Chip said flatly.

“Ah – then Sunday is your big day.” Crane looked down, a smile playing about his lips, and began to toy with his pen. “Sailing, perhaps? Or Sunday brunch at the Sheraton, maybe, followed by a romantic interlude in one of their luxurious suites?”

When that produced no more response than a muted growl, Crane feigned astonishment. “You mean the Legend of the Nelson Institute is spending the weekend alone?” He shook his head in an exaggerated manner. “Will wonders never cease?” he said in feigned awe.

“Will your mouth never cease?” Chip shot back. “I feel like spending the weekend alone. Since when is that a sin?”

“It’s not a sin,” Lee conceded, “but for you it’s definitely aberrant behavior.”

“Which is not up for discussion, so drop it,” Chip said flatly.

Lee raised one hand in surrender. “All right, truce. Feel like having dinner with me tonight instead of just the usual Friday beer after work? I realize I must be pretty low on your list of suitable dinner partners, but….”

“Right now you’re pretty close to the top.”

Lee raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Hmmm...might I ask who’s closer to the top than I am? A certain marine biologist, maybe?”

“Get real,” Chip scoffed, but he avoided meeting Lee’s eyes.

“What real? The question is perfectly logical.”

“I don’t have any interest in her,” Chip said, looking everywhere but at Lee.

“I know that’s what you’d like everyone to think,” Lee said calmly. “The only thing is, I can’t figure out why.”

“Lee, she’s not my type,” Chip asserted.

“You could have fooled me – and everyone else aboard _Seaview_ who saw you together. Then again, you’d probably be wasting your time – a girl like that…I’m sure she’s already spoken for. Still, if you play your cards right....” Lee let his words trail off suggestively.

Chip sighed in frustration. “Lee, she was all business.”

“But she was friendly about it,” Crane pointed out.

“Kind of an oxymoron, isn’t it?” Chip asked dryly.

Crane ignored that. “You like her.”

“Of course I like her,” Chip said. “And I like you, too – but I don’t want to sleep with you.”

Crane looked at him goggle-eyed. “Whoa. Where did **that** come from?”

“I’m nipping you in the bud before you get any more wild ideas,” Chip snapped.

“So you **have** thought about it,” Crane pressed.

“Sleeping with you? Absolutely not.” Chip stood and gathered his papers together. “And if this is going to be the topic of dinner conversation tonight, I respectfully decline.”

Crane tossed his pen onto the desk. “All right, all right – I’ll lay off. Though if you know what’s good for you –”

“If I know what’s good for me, I’ll listen to Mother Lee,” Chip said in a singsong voice. “Spare me – we’ve been through this before.”

“Not recently,” Crane said brightly.

“Too recently, for my taste.” Chip turned to go. “Pick me up at eighteen-thirty.”

“Where do you want to eat?”

“You’re treating – surprise me.” Chip shut the door behind him just a bit too forcefully.

Crane stared at the door for a moment after his friend had left. _Seems like I hit a raw nerve_ , he mused. Chip had never been one to discuss his love life over-much, but he’d never been openly hostile when teased about it, either. He’d always been quiet about his personal life, but few people had made the mistake of taking reticence for shyness. Damn few women certainly did. Lee wished he knew exactly what Chip did to make women fall all over him the way they did – if he could market it, he’d make a fortune.

But Doctor Lynn Murtagh hadn’t acted that way at all. Oh, she’d been friendly and talkative, but she hadn’t fallen all over him. Chip had been just as talkative in return, and it was more than obvious that they’d enjoyed each other’s company while she was aboard.

 _Methinks the Commander doth protest too much,_ Lee thought. _It ought to be interesting when Lynn comes on board again._

And come on board again she would – the Admiral had been very impressed with her work, especially her bravery in the face of danger, and her willingness to see the tests through to completion even after she’d come close to death – death by man-eater, as some of the crew had started calling it. She’d fit in well, wasn't a distraction, and she hadn’t caused any disruption to routine as so many of their former “guests” had done. It was a relief to have a scientist aboard who minded her own business and didn’t turn up in the control room every few minutes on some pretext or another.

Lee liked her himself – though not to the extent that Chip did, even if his best friend and loyal right hand steadfastly refused to admit it. And that puzzled Lee. Lee had no concrete evidence as to how the marine biologist felt about Chip, but going by her reactions toward him at meals and in the post-dinner gatherings in the wardroom, there was at least a little interest on her part, and probably more than just a little.

Getting those two together again would be a very interesting experience, if only to watch their interaction. Yes, it would be very interesting indeed. But Chip wasn’t the type to be pushed into anything, Lee knew, so he’d have to tread very carefully. Once Chip got his back up, he could be a formidable opponent – but a carefully-placed nudge here and a well-constructed zing there couldn’t hurt. And at that, Lee was an expert.

Teasing Chip had long been one of Lee’s favorite pastimes. They’d been friends for nearly two decades, and he routinely thanked whatever fates there were for throwing them together as roommates their plebe year at Annapolis. Lee, three months older, had begun teasing the slightly-too-serious blond soon after they met, and hadn’t stopped since. Under Lee’s relentless assault, the young Chip had loosened up significantly. He’d even taken part in the outrageous pranks the middies played to brighten up the “Dark Ages”, the name the mids had given to the long, bleak winter days at Annapolis, displaying a wickedly dry sense of humor.

As midshipmen at Annapolis, they’d developed a strong bond almost immediately upon meeting, one that had lasted throughout the years. They’d kept in close touch even though differing assignments and billets often found them in far-flung corners of the globe. _Seaview_ was their first assignment together since they had graduated from Submarine School in the late Sixties. They’d had a few rocky moments early on after Lee took over the captaincy of _Seaview_ , but they’d soon adjusted and now worked well as a unified team, each having strengths that complemented those of the other. Lee honestly didn't know what he'd do without Chip at his side.

Chip was known as a strict yet understanding supervisor, and the crew and officer complement liked and respected him because he was fair and honest in his dealings with them. When he was on navigation watch in the control room, Chip radiated a calm watchfulness and confidence in himself that inspired a matching confidence in junior officers and made the enlisted men want to do their best work. None of them, officer or enlisted, wanted to be on his bad side if they could help it. That meant doing their jobs efficiently, and doing things right the first time. Chip didn’t often yell; when he was angry, he tended towards icy precision, though he had no problem raising his voice when necessary. But when he directed his disappointment at crewmen because they hadn’t met Chip’s quite reasonable expectations, they often felt worse than if he’d unleashed a tirade at them. Honest mistakes, however, were things Chip turned into learning experiences for all involved, and hoped that the officer or crewman never made the same one again.

When Chip chewed an individual officer out, he preferred to do it out of the earshot of any and all enlisted men and away from as many of the other officers as possible. It wasn’t his way to humiliate anyone – he felt it was counterproductive and bad for the boat’s morale.

People who didn’t know Chip well tended to underestimate him, taking his quiet, watchful demeanor and his preference for going by the book for lack of imagination. But Lee knew better than to make that mistake. Chip might have seemed bland at times, but only to those who didn’t know him. Yes, he could occasionally be stuffy, but there was never any doubt that he knew his job, or did it better than most. Chip did what all good XOs had always done – he ran the whole show from the background. Only he did it better than any other XO Lee had ever encountered. Chip had natural talents for organization and administration that kept Seaview running smoothly, no matter what problems might pop up. And when he made his rounds of the boat, he had a knack for turning up just where his assistance was needed. The crew was in awe of this ability, and even Lee had to admit that this trait was more than a little bit scary.

An important part of an executive officer’s job is making sure his captain doesn’t make any mistakes, and Chip took that particular part of his job very seriously. He made sure Lee had whatever information he needed in any instance. He ran _Seaview_ in an incredibly efficient manner, intercepting and handling whatever problems cropped up, often long before Lee was even aware of their existence, and he did it with an equanimity and aplomb that amazed everyone involved. The ever-inscrutable Mister Morton kept every single item involved with the operation of _Seaview_ well under control, without even turning a single hair on his perpetually well-groomed head. Nothing concerning _Seaview,_ however minor _,_ ever escaped his attention.

But Lynn Murtagh... Lee had a feeling that the unflappable Doctor Lynn Murtagh had captured more of the inscrutable Commander Morton’s attention than either Chip or Lynn had even realized. Lee didn’t know where that relationship would end up, but he knew he’d have a good time watching them get there.

He grinned and began packing up to leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
> Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
> Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
> Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
> Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
> CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
> Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
> Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
> Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
> Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
> Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
> Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
> Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
> Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
> Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
> Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
> Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
> Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
> Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
> Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
> Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
> Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
> Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
> Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
> Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	3. Can't Say It's Boring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

In the days to follow, the dolphins showed no delayed aftereffects of their encounter with the shark and seemed even more affectionate and more attentive to their lessons than usual, if such a thing were possible.

Lynn made the arrangements for Kevin to come in and give the dolphins a physical. Though he wasn’t a cetacean veterinarian – those were few and far between, and much busier than anyone in the profession would have liked – he’d done a great deal of research on cetaceans at Lynn’s urging, and felt competent enough to give the Unholy Three, as he often referred to them, a complete physical at periodic intervals.

Bob Shaughnessey, dressed in a green and black wetskin, looked at Kevin and Lynn with a jaundiced eye. “Matching wetskins, yet,” he complained, motioning toward their red, white and blue wetskins. “I should have known.”

Lynn arched an eyebrow. “Is there something wrong with that?”

“It’s a cliché. Twins dressing alike. I thought you two were above that.”

“Oh, poor Bobby. Do you think you might have a problem telling us apart?” Lynn asked.

Kevin snickered but said nothing, looking away toward the dolphin tank when Shaughnessey glared.

Nah, Lynnie – you’re the one who looks like Mister Jiggs.”

“At least no one would mistake me for the Jolly Green Giant, Rocco,” Lynn shot back.

“Better him than a chimp!” Shaughnessey retaliated.

“I have four-legged patients to see sometime today. Can we call this little exchange a draw and get to work?” Kevin asked, hefting his medical bag.

“For now,” Lynn agreed, and climbed the stairs to the platform. “Nick, is the herring ready?”

“Yup.”

“Good. Get 'em, Rocco – you’re the official bribe holder,” Lynn said and jumped into the tank at the shallow bump-out. The dolphins immediately surrounded her, vying for her attention. “Okay, kids, it’s checkup time. We’re gonna do some things you’re not gonna like, but we have to do them. And the more you cooperate, the quicker it’ll be over. Okay?”

“You think they understood that?” Kevin called down.

“Maybe.”

“Looks like you’re gonna find out, Kev.” Shaughnessey seated himself at the edge of the tank, dangling his legs in the water. “And if you’re real good for nice Uncle Doctor Kevin,” he told the dolphins, “Auntie Lynnie will give you an Oreo. Better cookies than a stinky fish.”

Kevin placed his bag at the edge of the pool and eased into the water. “You’re a sick man, Shaughnessey.”

Lynn snorted. “I’ve been saying that since I met him. Gimme a fish.”

“Where do you want to start?”

“With Sammy. We’ll get Mister Noisy done first,” Lynn answered, stroking the larger male, giving him a herring. “Let’s do the external exams first, and save all the blood and saliva samples for last.”

“You’re the boss.” Kevin stroked Sammy beneath the jaw. “Eyes are clear. These abrasions came from ramming the shark?”

“Yeah. I treated them at the time. They look okay to you?”

“They’re healing nicely. Can you get him to open his mouth? I want to check his teeth.”

Lynn maneuvered around and stood in front of Sammy. Off to the side, Maxie and Leo drifted, watching. “Open wide, babes,” she said, giving Sammy the signal to open his mouth.

The dolphin complied, chattering. Kevin gave his sister a sideways glance, then began to inspect Sammy’s dentition.

“Teeth look good, too,” Kevin said, then moved toward the dolphin’s flukes, examining his skin for any abrasions or signs of parasitic infestation. All the while, Sammy kept up a running monologue, ranging from muttered grumbles to high-pitched squeals that caused all present to cover their ears.

“Sammy, enough!” Lynn ordered, but the dolphin kept squealing.

“S’okay, Lynnie, I’m through with him,” Kevin told her. “Who’s next?”

“Maxie. Leo is a lot more patient and won’t mind waiting.” She patted the dolphin alongside the dorsal. “Thank you, Sammy. You’re through.”

With that, the dolphin streaked away from them, circling the tank in frenzied motion. The wake he cast up feathered behind him, and small wavelets sloshed over the side of the tank into the lab below. He punctuated his dash with the occasional jump, and the few staff members dressed in street clothing hurried behind the ceiling-high tempered-glass splash barrier that protected the electrical equipment and desk area.

Kevin looked at his sister with a raised eyebrow.

She shook her head in return. “Ignore him. He’s like a little kid looking for attention. If we ignore him, he’ll stop.”

“I can’t until you do the blood test,” Shaughnessey called out.

Lynn pulled a face in his direction, then gestured to Maxie to swim to her.

“Do we ignore him, too?” Kevin asked, grinning.

“As much as we can,” she replied, hugging the female as Sammy swam over to watch Maxie’s exam

Leo popped up behind Kevin and chattered in his ear, causing Kevin to jump in startlement. “Leo, behave,” Lynn said sternly, and the smallest dolphin sank below the surface.

“This is a real zoo,” Kevin muttered as he began to examine Maxie.

“Can’t say it’s boring, Kev,” Lynn told him.

“Neither is a cavalry stampede, Sis,” Kevin said dryly, “but it’s not exactly something I’d want to do every day.”

He continued the examination. Maxie wasn’t as vocal as Sammy had been, but she contributed her share of complaints throughout. In the pool, Leo and Sammy drifted nearby, motionless sentinels as Kevin examined Maxie.

“You getting this, Kev?” Lynn asked, her eyes on the two males.

“Yeah. Is this new for them?”

“Yup – for about the past couple of weeks. It’s like they feel the need to guard her.”

“Any ideas?”

“At the moment? None – but I need to do some research on this behavior to see if anyone else has observed it.”

Once Maxie was released, she repeated Sammy’s behavior – and Sammy, who had quieted down during her exam, joined right in.

“Real well-trained kids you have here, Sis,” Kevin teased.

Lynn just grinned ruefully and shook her head. “They’re just showing off,” she said, and gestured to Leo. The young dolphin butted up against her, looking for attention, and she hugged him, rubbing her cheek against his beak. “You’ll behave, won’t you?” she asked. “Please?”

“If he says yes, I’m leaving,” Shaughnessey called over.

“Say yes, Leo,” Kevin said in a stage whisper. “Come on, do it.”

“Cute, Kev,” Shaughnessey shot back.

“I thought so,” Kevin replied genially, and began his examination. Once again, they were joined by the other two dolphins, who appeared to stand vigil while their podmate was examined, though they seemed far more relaxed than they had when Maxie had been examined.

Leo was the easiest of the three to check over, and easily complied with every request. When Lynn released him, he bobbed alongside her quietly. “They should all be like this,” Kevin muttered, casting a glance toward the now-quiet Sammy and Maxie.

“Now comes the hard part,” Lynn said, and pushed herself out of the tank. She walked to the ramp that extended into the tank, and patted the rubberized surface. “Come on, guys.”

As one, the three dolphins eased out of the water and onto the ramp.

“This never fails to amaze me,” Kevin said, shaking his head.

“Me, too,” Lynn said, kneeling between Sammy and Maxie, facing backward. She began crooning to the big male in a low voice, nonsense syllables and a low, tuneless humming intended to soothe and reassure the animal as she gently stroked him.

Kevin walked behind Sammy, kneeling beside his flukes. Shaughnessey followed. With a scalpel, Kevin nicked the flukes’ dorsal surface, smearing the blood that welled up onto a slide, which he then handed to Shaughnessey, who topped it with a cover slide. Then Kevin took a skin scraping from the fluke, handing that off to Shaughnessey as before, then rising and moving to stand behind Maxie.

Lynn remained with Sammy a moment longer. Then, with a hug and a final pat, she motioned him back into the tank. He didn’t repeat his earlier circling, but remained near the platform, casting an anxious regard toward his two tankmates still on the ramp.

Still on her knees, Lynn turned and edged toward Maxie. The female eyed her, following with a questioning whistle, and Lynn crooned to her, using the same tones and nonsense syllables she had given Sammy.

Kevin quickly performed the same procedure on the female, then did the same to Leo, and soon all three dolphins were back in the tank. Shaughnessey portioned out the herring to them, and they took the fish greedily, all anxiety seemingly gone.

“Well, that’s it for another few weeks, at least,” Kevin said as he packed his instruments and samples. “I should have the results for you in a week or so.”

“But they look healthy to you?” Lynn asked.

“Do they look healthy to **you**?” Kevin parried.

“Yeah, but– .”

Kevin shook his head. “No buts. You’re the expert – I’m still the baby Jedi in this field. If they look healthy to you, it means more than if they look healthy to me.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She followed him down the stairs and into the locker room, waiting in the lounge area while he showered and standing outside his cubicle while he changed into his street clothes.

“You okay?” he called through the louvered door.

“Why shouldn’t I be?” Lynn asked.

“You’re too quiet. What’s the matter?”

Lynn sighed. “Nothing, really. I just thought….”

“Thought what?”

“Thought that maybe I’d have been called back to _Seaview_ before now.”

“Wishful thinking, or based on fact?”

“A little of both. Lu said the Admiral was pleased with my work and that he wouldn’t be surprised if I got to go out on her again in the future.” She sighed in resignation. “But it hasn’t happened yet.”

“No rumors, even?”

Lynn snorted. “Not about that – plenty about other things, though.”

“Anything you can tell me about?” Kevin pushed the door open and sat down to tie his sneakers.

Lynn moved to the doorway and leaned against the frame. “Not really.” She crossed her arms and frowned. “Nothing that sounds remotely believable, anyway.”

Kevin stood and gave her a hug. “Keep your chin up, Sis. Your time will come.”

“I hope it’s before I’m old and grey.” She sighed. “Or maybe that was my one shot, and I’ll never get on board again. It’s all up to the Admiral.”

“And?”

“And…who knows? The man is a certified genius. How many of his books were our course textbooks or were assigned reading when we were in college? For that matter, I’ve been reading books he wrote since we were kids, and now I’m working for the man. What am I doing here, anyway?”

“Earning your paycheck, hopefully,” Kevin said.

“Not funny,” Kev.”

“Very funny,” Kevin corrected. “You sound like you’re intimidated by him.”

“I’d never admit this to anyone else but you – but yeah, I am, a little, anyway,” Lynn said softly.

“I’m having a hard time picturing you being intimidated by anyone.”

“Try harder,” Lynn said, and turned and led him toward the door.

** *** **

The tests done, Lynn changed out of her wetskin, rinsed it off with fresh water, showered and dressed, then returned to her office and tried to focus on a pending grant proposal, but her mind kept wandering. Giving up, she swiveled her chair and looked out the window behind her desk. It was a gorgeous day – too nice a day to spend cooped up in the office. Looking at her watch, she decided to head for lunch. She took her lunch from the small fridge in the corner, then left.

Knowing the picnic area near the commissary would be crowded on a gorgeous day like today, Lynn headed for the overlook area along the bulkhead that abutted the ocean. There would be strollers there, she was sure, but there’d be fewer people than at the outdoor lunch area, simply because the overlook was devoid of tables.

She was wrong. The overlook was filled to capacity, probably with the overflow from the picnic area. People milled around in twos, threes, and even larger groups, sitting on the grass and even on the pathway.

Lynn sighed in frustration. She didn’t want to go near the overlook – someone would draw her into a group and she didn’t feel like being scintillating company. The beauty of the day had put her into a softer, introspective mood, and she just wanted to be alone with her daydreams.

She turned, walking along the bulkhead until she came to a more remote area behind the maintenance garage. _This is more like it,_ she thought as she straight-armed herself up onto the four-foot-wide concrete and stone bulkhead that overlooked the sparkling Pacific. She rested one leg across the top of the concrete wall and stared out toward the sea. The waters offshore, past the restricted area near the Institute, were crowded with pleasure boats, windsurfers, jet skis, and parasails. Lynn wished she and Kevin were out there on _Double Trouble_ – it had been a while since they had taken their teal-and-white Bayliner out. _Maybe this weekend,_ she thought, and popped open her Pepsi.

** *** **

Chip looked at the clock, relieved to see that lunchtime had finally come. He looked at the sandwich and chilled can of soda that sat on his desk, recently delivered by the commissary. He’d planned to eat in today, to plow through the paperwork involved with running _Seaview_ – paperwork that seemed to multiply of its own accord – but a morning spent dealing with uncooperative suppliers had soured him on that idea. He wanted a break, but more than that, he **needed** a break.

Rooting around in a desk drawer, he found a paper bag, stuffed the sandwich and soda inside, and headed for the door after grabbing his cover from the closet.

The phone rang just as he closed the door. Exhaling forcefully, he walked back into the office and grabbed the receiver. “Morton.”

“Ah, Chip, I’m glad I caught you.”

Chip frowned. Nelson sounded too jovial, and to Chip, that meant one thing – trouble. “Yes, Admiral?” he asked warily.

“The new sonar database will be installed in _Seaview_ ’s sonar system tomorrow.”

“The bugs are all worked out?” Chip asked in surprise.

“More or less. This is still in the initial stages – we’ll still need a shakedown cruise, more likely two,” Nelson said. “I’d like you to supervise the installation of the new computer module.”

“Aye, sir.”

“I’ll see you in my office at fourteen hundred for a briefing.”

“Aye, sir,” Chip acknowledged. He heard Nelson hang up at the other end. _Short and sweet_ , he thought, picking up his lunch and leaving.

He swung out the back door of the Administration Building, heading for the picnic area. Halfway there, a familiar figure heading in the opposite direction on the pathway along the bulkhead caught his eye. _Well, well,_ he thought. _Fancy seeing you here._ And he impulsively changed direction to follow.

He’d caught sight of her a few times since her cruise on _Seaview_ ; sometimes she’d been in the company of another woman or a tall black man, at others in the company of a burly man a little taller than she. She’d been hard to miss, with that bright hair. And she’d always been talking, often gesturing to accompany her words. He’d never been close enough to hear what she’d said, however.

At the moment, she was far away in her own world, and didn’t appear to notice his approach. “This is an unorthodox place for lunch, isn’t it?” he asked.

Lynn looked up in surprise, then smiled in genuine welcome. “I guess so, but the overlook and picnic areas are too crowded today.” She looked at the bag in his hand. “That where you’re headed?”

He shrugged. “I was,” he said, crossing his fingers against the falsehood. What was one white lie, after all? “Do you mind company?”

“No – not at all.” Lynn patted the concrete ledge beside her. “Come on up.”

He pushed himself up onto the wall and half-turned to face her. She was wearing a silky-looking peach tee shirt and baggy grey cotton jeans – an odd dichotomy, but they looked good on her. Her position was relaxed, very practical, and very her. The black diver’s watch seemed out of place on her slender forearm, yet shouted “practicality” at the same time. She was prettier than he’d remembered, with a few more freckles scattered across the bridge of her nose, and more sun-streaks in her hair. She wore a little more makeup than she’d worn on _Seaview_ , and projected a warm accessibility that he knew he should recognize as danger of the highest kind. And the hell of it was, he didn't care.

Despite his protestations to Lee, there was definitely an attraction between them, and it would be so easy to act upon it. But would it be the right thing to do?

Her voice broke into his thoughts. “Whatcha got?”

“Excuse me?” he asked, coming back to the present.

“Your sandwich – what is it?” she asked.

“Oh. Roast beef on cracked wheat.”

Her eyes gleamed. “Rare?”

Chip suppressed a grin. “Very.”

“Yum. Wanna trade half for half a ham and Swiss on rye?”

Chip raised an eyebrow. “I feel like I’m back in grammar school,” he said dryly.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “Does that mean yes, Commander?”

“It means yes,” he said with a smile, extending half of his sandwich.

“You okay?” she asked, taking the sandwich and handing him half of hers. “It looked like you...went away for a while there.”

Chip nodded, surprised that she had noticed his abstraction. He wasn’t used to that – most of the women he knew didn’t seem to care about anything more serious than where they were going for dinner – and what would happen afterward. “I’m fine,” he assured her. “Thank you for the card. I have to admit, I was surprised to receive it.”

Lynn shrugged. “That’s how my mother raised me."

“Yes, mine did, too – but I’ve never received a thank you card from anyone we’ve hosted before. It was a unique touch.”

Lynn chewed her lower lip before answering. “It was a small acknowledgement for all the help you gave me.”

“All part of the job, Doctor.”

She nodded but said no more, and they ate in silence for a while, just enjoying the day and each other’s company, each stealing glances when he or she thought the other wasn’t looking.

“I have a shark joke for you,” Lynn said into the silence when they were nearly through.

He swallowed heavily. “Do I really want to hear it?”

“I doubt it,” Lynn said genially.

He grinned. “Go ahead.”

“There were two marine biologists sittin’ on a dock, fishin’. All of a sudden, one says, ‘Oh my God! A shark just bit my toe off’!' So the other one jumps up and says, ‘That’s awful! Which one?’ And the first one says, ‘How’m I supposed to know? There are over three hundred species of sharks!' ”

Chip grimaced. “That was awful.”

She grinned. “I know.”

He studied her for a moment before speaking. “It’s one way of dealing with the situation, isn’t it?”

Lynn lifted an eyebrow. “Bad jokes? Yeah. It’s better than thinking about what might have happened.”

“And do you?” he asked softly.

“Think about what might have happened?” She nodded. “Yeah. It’d be hard not to. But when I think about it, I realize how lucky we were. I’ve been on tagging expeditions and seen big great whites nearly capsize thirty-foot-long sport-fishers. Whites are strong and unpredictable and we really lucked out.”

“And it won’t keep you out of the water?”

Lynn shook her head. “Like I’ve been telling people for the past couple of weeks, it’s like riding a horse – get dumped and you have to dust yourself off and get right back into the saddle.”

“That’s one way of looking at it,” Chip replied dryly. “Frankly, I’d rather stay as far away as I can.”

“That’s another way of looking at it, I guess, but it’s not an option I have.”

“I suppose not,” Chip agreed. “But Bessie is as close as I like to get.”

Lynn smiled. “Lu’s talked you into visiting her, huh?”

“More times than I’d like to count,” Chip said dryly.

“Actually, I think she’s Bessie the Fourth.” Lynn laughed. “But Lu will never admit it. Did he ever show you any of the other fish we’ve got?”

“I’ve never had the pleasure.”

“Too bad – we have a collection of some really beautiful fish, and invertebrates, too. We have an active breeding program, and we keep some of the more interesting fish on display in the lobbies of the Biology buildings – pearly jawfish, some of the smaller eels, stonefish – even a blue lobster. And they’re setting up a new habitat at the Marine Vertebrate Building.”

“Now, why do I have this feeling you couldn’t resist getting involved?”

She nodded, her eyes bright. “Good guess, Commander. I did it for a change of pace – the tanks there are so different than those we use for the dolphins. Ours are primarily training and research-oriented, but the tanks they keep the display fish in are more like the exhibits at an aquarium. The saltwater tanks have living corals, the freshwater tanks are planted and aquascaped – the works. It’s nice to work with salt-water tropicals for a change – I only have a fresh-water tank at home.” She grinned. “I can’t believe I actually draw a paycheck for working here!”

There it was again – her openness. She looked at him straight on, evincing none of the coyness that some women affected, or the phony modesty he detested.

She looked at him quizzically. “Do you always wear that tie?”

“Yes.”

“Why? Lee doesn’t, the Admiral doesn’t, Sharkey doesn’t, and neither do any of the other chiefs.”

“I have to set an example.”

“Oh, the department heads and junior officers must love you for that,” Lynn said wryly.

He shook his head. “Has anyone ever told you that sometimes you’re too honest?”

She nodded. “Yeah – my mother.”

“That figures.” Chip looked at his watch – he needed to be in Nelson’s office in twenty minutes. “Doctor, it’s been fun, but my presence is required elsewhere.” He began gathering the remnants of his lunch.

Lynn nodded. “Yeah, mine is, too.”

She didn’t elaborate, and he refrained from asking. Instead, he watched her gather her own trash into a neat package and hop down from the wall before he could offer to help her down. Once down, she looked at him with an expectant light in her green eyes.

“Can I walk you back to your office?” he heard himself asking, even though the Marine Mammal Building would take him several minutes out of his way.

Lynn looked at him in surprise, then smiled. “That would be nice. I’d like that.”

They fell into step together, heading away from the bulkhead and toward the buildings in the distance. They walked in companionable silence until they reached the Marine Mammal Building.

For some reason he didn’t fully understand, Chip didn’t want to end their impromptu meeting. As she turned to say goodbye, Chip broke the silence. “How are the dolphins? Did they suffer any ill-effects from their encounter with the shark?”

Lynn shook her head. “None. My brother – you know, my twin, the veterinarian? – was in this morning and gave them a clean bill of health. The abrasions are healing nicely.”

Chip crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back slightly. “And?”

“And what?”

“And what is it you’re not telling me?”

She cocked her head to one side to look up at him. “What makes you think there’s something I’m not telling you?”

Chip gave her a triumphant smile. “Because ‘the abrasions are healing nicely’ isn’t your usual overabundance of detail.”

She ducked her head and smiled ruefully. “You’re right. Well, they’ve been very affectionate lately, and even more responsive to training. It’s like – I dunno, they accept me even more than they did before, if that’s possible. And this is a completely subjective and totally unscientific viewpoint, of course.”

“Of course.” He nodded solemnly, then smiled.

A tall blond man appeared at the door to the Marine Mammal Building. “ **There** you are!”

Lynn tensed. “Something wrong?”

“That depends on how you look at it. Some flunky from NOAA’s on the phone. Lucius isn’t around and he wants to talk to you.”

“Damn. I had a feeling he’d call when Lucius wasn’t around to handle it.”

“Lucius has always had impeccable timing,” Chip said dryly.

“Don’t I know it. I’m the recipient of it almost every day.” Lynn waved at the man. “Okay, Pete, tell him I’m on my way.” She turned back to Chip. “Bureaucrats,” she said apologetically.

“I’ve dealt with my share, Doctor. You have my sympathies.”

“Wanna talk to him for me, instead?”

“I don’t think I’d be a satisfactory substitute.”

“You’d have him wrapped around your little finger inside a minute,” Lynn said.

Chip raised an eyebrow. “Thanks for the vote of confidence – but I think I’ll let you handle this one. It’s more your territory than mine.”

“Probably – but I don’t think I have the answers he wants. Wish me luck – I’ll need it.”

“Good luck,” Chip said, and watched her run up the short flight of steps leading to the main entrance. Then he turned and strode off in the direction of the Administration Building.

Angie was nowhere to be seen when Chip arrived in the anteroom, but the door to Nelson’s office was wide open. Hearing Nelson’s voice, Chip tentatively walked to the doorway and angled his head to look inside. Nelson was on the phone, but he waved Chip to a chair, then continued on with his phone call. Listening to the Admiral’s end of the conversation, Chip surmised that Nelson was making arrangements with another marine institute to host one of their researchers on _Seaview_ sometime in the near future.

That got him thinking about Doctor Murtagh again. And that, in itself, was surprising. She was so different from the usual woman who attracted him. Chip had never met a woman who’d cared about his work – the women he tended to date cared more about theirs. Doctor Murtagh, though, not only cared, but she understood – and that was new, and refreshing. Was it the novelty that kept bringing her to his mind? IF now -- what was it?

He was still thinking about her when Nelson finished his conversation and passed a thick binder over his desk.

“Here are the specs on the new sonar system,” Nelson said, coming around the desk to stand near Chip. “Riley, Simmons, and Kowalski have already been training in the simulator, along with Chief Nolan and Lieutenant Carter. Lieutenant Carter will be present at the installation, but I’d like you there as well.

“NASOSIDS?” Chip asked. “Should I ask what it stands for?”

“NATO-Soviet Submarine Identification System,” Nelson said dryly. “A relatively straightforward acronym for once.”

Chip flipped through the binder. It was full of flowcharts and pages and pages of computerese. “What exactly do you want me to do, Admiral?”

“Familiarize yourself with the hardware installation,” Nelson said. “And learn as much as you can about the software. It loads easily enough.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Chip said, closing the book.

Nelson grinned at the younger man’s cynicism. They’d all seen too many things go awry on _Seaview_ to become complacent – Chip most of all because of his day-to-day ground-level involvement with the running of the massive submarine and interactions with the crew. His professional development and leadership skills were off the charts, and he was highly respected by the crew. He had a healthy skeptical streak which served him well as _Seaview’s_ executive officer, and his innate pragmatism balanced Lee’s more impulsive nature. Nelson reflected again on how well he’d chosen nearly eight years earlier when he’d tapped a much younger Chip Morton to be _Seaview’s_ exec.

“We’ll talk further tomorrow, after you’ve had a chance to go over the manual,” Nelson said, walking back around his desk, taking his seat, and pulling a folder toward him.

Chip recognized a dismissal when he heard one. “Aye, sir,” he said, rising. “I’ll have my recommendations on your desk tomorrow morning.”

** *** **

Chip dropped his briefcase on the couch, then went in to take a shower. After he’d dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, he made himself a thick turkey sandwich for dinner, slathering each slice of rye bread with a layer of mayo. Adding a good-sized handful of corn chips to the plate and taking a bottle of beer from the refrigerator, he headed into the living room.

He got comfortable on the couch and opened the NASOSIDS binder, spreading it out on the cocktail table beside a legal pad and a couple of sharp pencils. He scanned the flowcharts, flipping past the software configuration instructions – he’d leave that little chore to Mark Videtti and his people – and on to the hardware installation information in the appendix. It seemed relatively straightforward – the new module would be installed in an empty bay in _Seaview’s_ sonar computer, connecting to an available port; the information it would provide would pop up in a window on the sonar screens. It would provide invaluable information in any contact situation, saving time, and, perhaps, lives in the bargain.

Yes, it seemed simple enough, but Chip had seen plenty of “simple” situations go bad – such as the shark that had attacked him and Doctor Murtagh while on a “simple” test. He trusted nothing to be as simple as the claims that were made for it.

Chip read through the manual as he ate, noting down his recommendations on the legal pad. First – install the module on one sonar station, leaving the other free for normal operations. Second – train one senior enlisted – his recommendation was Kowalski, as he was the senior enlisted man in the department – as primary operator, who would then assist in training the other operators and be available to assist them if they encountered problems. Third – once the training was complete, take _Seaview_ out on an initial shakedown cruise of the system, consisting of two days of testing, with specially-modified dummy torpedoes broadcasting the signatures in the system’s database. Fourth – after the initial shakedown was complete, run the system in parallel with _Seaview’s_ current system, comparing response times of both systems for a specified period of time for a more comprehensive test. At the end of that period, both systems’ performances would be evaluated. This would continue until all concerned were satisfied that the system was living up to its promised performance.

Initial testing would be simple – dummy torpedoes that had been specially modified for the test would be randomly launched, and would broadcast the recorded signatures of known submarines; the new sonar system would then be tasked with identifying them. The dummies would have to be carefully retrieved once the test was finished to prevent the transponders from falling into unfriendly hands – he’d call the naval base up in Keyport, Washington, and book the services of the torpedo trials craft _Keyport_ for the retrieval process.

Chip suspected there would be slower contact response times from the new system once it was fully deployed, though nothing in the manual indicated that possibility. Still, it might be wise to log response times in comparison to the standard sonar already installed on _Seaview_ . He added that to the notes already covering the pad. By the time he had finished, Chip had filled six sheets of legal-sized paper with neat, vertical handwriting. He read it over, made some alterations, then tore off the pages and slipped them into a file folder. He slipped the pad and folder into his briefcase, washed the dirty plate and glass, and settled in to watch the Dodgers game for a while before taking himself off to bed.

** *** **

Chip arrived in his office a little earlier than usual the next morning and typed up his report on the sonar system himself, preferring not to wait for his secretary’s arrival. When he was finished, he printed out two copies, called Angie to ascertain that Nelson was in, then walked down the hall to the Admiral’s spacious office suite.

“He’s on the phone, so hang on a bit,” Angie said, rummaging through her purse. “He won’t be long.”

Chip rested a hip against Angie’s desk and watched her paw through her belongings. “Lose something?” he asked innocently, though he knew exactly what Angie was looking for.

She triumphantly held a cigarette lighter aloft. “Found it.”

Chip sent her a disapproving frown. “I thought you were going to quit.”

Angie lit a cigarette and took a long drag. “You know what they say – the road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

“More like tobacco and nicotine, in your case,” he scoffed. “Poor Dennis.”

Angie smiled and exhaled a long plume of smoke. “How was your lunch with Lynn?”

“My what?” Chip’s eyes widened in surprise and he attempted to school his features into a composed expression.

But Angie grinned impishly and he knew she wasn’t fooled. “Your lunch with Lynn yesterday. I have to admit, the bulkhead is an odd choice of a location for a picnic, but it’s relatively private. She’s really a sweet girl – did you have a nice time together?”

“How did you find out about that?” Chip asked. At Angie’s smug grin, he shook his head and held up a hand in negation. “Never mind. I don’t think I want to know.”

“You’re right,” Angie agreed. “You don’t. I **will** say one thing, though.”

“Which is?”

“I didn’t find out about it from Lynn. She doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Chip flushed slightly through his tan. “There was no kissing involved.”

“More’s the pity,” Angie said with a coy smile. “So?”

“So what?’ Chip hedged.

“Your lunch. With Lynn. Down at the bulkhead. Yesterday.” Angie crossed her arms on the desk and leaned forward on them, an eager expression on her face. “Did you have fun?”

Chip attempted to look indifferent. “It was just...lunch, Angie. It was a coincidence that we met at all.”

Angie shook her head. “More like a serendipitous meeting. You two would make a really nice couple, you know.”

Chip blinked in confusion and tried to marshal his defenses. Angie was an inveterate matchmaker, but she’d never tried to set him up before, or even gone so far as to benignly push him in anyone’s direction, so this was more than a little puzzling. “It was a chance encounter, Angie. Don’t make more of it than what it was.”

Angie shook her head emphatically. “Oh, Chip, believe me, I’m not. Haven’t you asked her out yet?”

Chip rolled his eyes. “Now why would I want to do that?”

“Because you’re interested in her,” Angie said.

Her confidence was disturbing. “You’re imagining things,” Chip scoffed.

Angie smiled broadly. “No, I’m not. I know that gleam in your eye.

“Gleam? What gleam?” Chip demanded.

“The one you get when you find a woman who interests you,” Angie said archly. “You can try to deny it – and you may not even realize it’s there right now. But believe me, I recognize it – I’ve seen it enough. After that, it’s just a matter of time. And right now, it’s very intense.”

“Angie….” Chip said, rolling his eyes.

Angie leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. “Go ahead – stonewall. That may work with some people, but I know you better.” She put the cigarette in the ashtray and shook her finger at him. “You know what your problem is?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” Chip said, looking at the phone, chagrined to see that the indicator light beside Nelson’s extension was still lit. No escape there.

“Emotional unavailability,” Angie said confidently.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“What I heard you say sounds like the worst pop psychology,” Chip scoffed.

“It is what it is, mister logical electrical engineer – and it describes you perfectly.” Angie sighed. “You hide yourself, and you never let anyone in. Have you ever thought it might be time to stop hiding?”

“You’ve been talking to Lee, haven’t you?” Chip accused. “He put you up to this, didn’t he?”

Angie shook her head, but her eyes lit up and she gave him a broad smile. “No, he didn’t, but if he’s noticed, then I’m sure I’m on the right track.”

“There’s nothing to notice,” Chip asserted quickly.

“No, of course there isn’t,” Angie said, nodding skeptically.

Chip glared at her, disconcerted that the frown simply bounced off Angie like a Nerf ball. “There **isn’t**.”

Angie raised an eyebrow. “Have it your way.” She jerked her head at the door. “Go on. He’s off the phone.”

“I intend to,” Chip said and strode to Nelson’s door.

“But I’m sure you’d find Lynn very amenable to any suggestion you might make,” she called after him.

In the act of reaching for the doorknob, Chip stopped dead, turning slowly to face Angie once more. “Why do you say that?”

Angie’s eyes gleamed in triumph and she gave a little shrug. “Things she’s said. Questions she’s asked. You’re not the only one who goes to lunch with her, you know.”

“Questions? What kind of questions?” Chip asked as he stalked back to the desk.

Angie took a long drag on her cigarette. “Oh, you know, run-of-the-mill stuff. We tried to assure her that you really aren’t as bad as your reputation makes you out to be. I think it worked, but it’s hard to tell with Lynn – she’s as good as putting up walls as you are.”Angie paused. “Maybe better,” she added softly.

“ **We**?” Chip braced his palms on the desk and leaned toward Angie. “Who’s **we**?”

“Lisa Baker and I. Tish and Lola weren’t much help in that department, I’m afraid. But I don’t think she needed much convincing – anyone can see what a nice guy you really are.”

“Flattery is beneath you, Angela,” Chip said dryly.

“And procrastination is unlike **you** , Christopher,” Angie shot back easily, unfazed.

“I work with her,” Chip pointed out.

“Oh, please,” Angie scoffed. “Once in a while – maybe. It’s not like she’s been assigned to Seaview, or will be. She’s been on board what, once? And she’s not going to be aboard as a regular thing in the future – three or four times a year, if that. Why deny yourself a chance to get to know her better?” she asked. “And you work with Katie, but that didn’t stop you from getting involved with her,” she pointed out.

“No, it didn’t – if you can call three dates an involvement. But that fiasco taught me a lesson. I won’t make that mistake again.” He straightened and began to move away.

“Chip,” Angie said softly, “Lynn’s not Katie. Not by any stretch of the imagination.”

“My imagination doesn’t stretch that far.” Then Chip turned and entered Nelson’s office.

Nelson had completed his call by the time Chip entered. He quickly looked through Chip’s report and agreed with all of his recommendations. “Good job, Chip.” He tossed the report onto the desktop. “The hardware arrives today, and we’re scheduled to install it on Thursday – see to it that all necessary personnel are available.”

“Already done, Admiral.” Chip handed him a copy of the roster for the day in question. “Every man necessary for the installation is available and assigned.”

Nelson scanned the sheet and gave him a quick smile. “Good.” He picked up his cover and uniform jacket and walked to the door, Chip following in his wake. “I have a meeting with Senator Joshua Harrington this afternoon in Los Angeles. I don’t have to tell you how important this is. Keep on top of this, Chip. Have the gate report to you when the equipment arrives.”

“Aye, sir,” Chip acknowledged, and left Nelson’s private office, breathing a sigh of relief when he saw that Angie was away from her desk. He didn’t really look forward to another go-round about Lynn. Angie was magnitudes worse than Lee when it came to teasing, and had the tenacity of an over-caffeinated Jack Russell.

His relief was short-lived when Angie entered the anteroom from the hallway before he could make good his escape. “Oh, no,” she said, wagging her finger at him and pushing the door to the hall shut behind her. “Not so fast.” She planted a hand in the center of his chest and stopped his forward progress.

Despite himself, Chip was amused at the idea of a woman nine inches shorter than he and who weighed about sixty pounds less than he did pushing him around. “ **Now** what do you want from me?” he asked, allowing her to push him back to the armchair alongside her desk.

“We weren’t through with our conversation,” Angie said, and pointed to the chair. “Now, sit.”

“You may not have been finished, but I was,” Chip said, but he sat down in the chair anyway.

“That’s what you think.” Angie glared at him for a bit, as if to make sure he wasn’t going to try to escape, before walking around her desk and sitting in her own chair. “Lynn's a sweetheart – she's not your usual type.”

“Which means?” he prodded.

“She’s real – not artificial. Not a self-centered bimbo with silicone enhancements who couldn’t tell a stirrup leather from a torpedo tube,” Angie said. “She might just be good for you.” She paused, a teasing light in her eyes. “Why don’t you invite her to come out and play?”

Chip shot her a dirty look. “You’re even worse than Lee.” A thought occurred to him and his expression turned suspicious. “You two aren’t in league with each other, are you?”

“I already told you – no. But that’s a fantastic idea. Thank you.” She made a note on her steno pad. “I’ll call him later.”

Chip groaned inwardly. The last thing he needed was Lee and Angie double-teaming him – that would be nothing short of a waking nightmare. “Don’t muck things up, Angela,” he warned.

Angie seized upon that like a dog with a nice, meaty bone. “A comment like that implies you have a plan in mind – care to share?” she asked avidly.

“No,” Chip said flatly.

Angie pounced on that. “So you **do** have a plan!”

“ **No** ,” he said, more firmly than before.

“No, you don’t have a plan, or no, you don’t care to share?” Angie prodded.

“I’m taking the Fifth,” Chip told her.

“Why didn’t I think about setting you two up before this?” Angie proclaimed. “You’re perfect for each other – you two have so much in common! You both ride, you were born and raised in the same state, you’re both Yankee fans – granted, Lynn’s a lot more rabid than you are –”

“Because you know it wouldn’t work?” Chip broke in to Angie’s litany, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. “She’s not my type. You know that.”

“Maybe you need to reevaluate your type,” Angie said.

‘Not even a remote possibility,” Chip scoffed.

“Why not? She’s smart, she’s fun to be around, she’s not scared of sharks, she’s used to the military, she’s certainly pretty – though not in that plastic way those bimbos you’ve been amusing yourself with are. She’s…the girl next door.”

“Angie….”

“You need someone who isn’t going to use you like arm candy,” Angie said.

“Angie, it’s usually the woman who fills that role,” Chip said patiently.

Angie glared at him. “Women are equal-opportunity users – at least, the ones you date are. They’re not above using you as a status symbol. ‘Oh, look, I’m dating _Seaview’s_ XO. Isn’t it wonderful?’ Then they look for photo ops to land them on the society pages.

“You know I don’t go to those things,” Chip pointed out.

“But that doesn’t stop them from trying.”

Chip gave Angie a noncommittal stare, but refused to acknowledge that she was right. He’d broken up with more than one woman who he’d thought was only dating him to further her own social or professional interests.

“Angie, I’m perfectly happy the way I am.”

“No, you’re neither,” Angie responded.

“Neither?”

“Neither perfect nor happy. I can’t help with the perfection, but I can help with the happiness. And Lynn would be perfect for you. She’s honest, she’s genuine, she’s sweet – well, most of the time, anyway – shall I go on?”

“No, thank you. I don’t have the time it would take for you to finish the litany,” Chip said dryly.

But Angie was on a roll and wasn’t about to give up. “She has more than a passing acquaintance with submarines – she lived in New London for five years. A lot of her friends wear gold dolphins.”

“And you see that as a plus?” Chip challenged.

“Of course I do. She can relate to your career more easily than one of those plastic bimbos you like to date, most of whom are so self-centered I’m surprised it doesn’t give them perpetual vertigo.”

“Ah, the many times aforementioned bimbos,” Chip said dryly. “Maybe that’s why I like to date them.”

“That makes absolutely no sense,” Angie said with a _huff_.

“Maybe I don’t want them to understand me. They might expect too much from me if they do,” Chip said softly.

“Oh, come on. What more could you ask for?” Angie demanded.

“For a certain someone to keep her mouth shut?” Chip asked dryly, knowing there wasn’t a hope in hell that Angie would accede to his request.

“Oh, that sub left its berth a long time ago,” Angie said brightly. “Did you tell her about that nice Maclay of yours sitting next to your USET Medal you won when you were seventeen that are so nicely displayed on Kate’s mantelpiece back in New Jersey?”

“No,” Chip said flatly.

“Why not?” Angie asked, her eyes widening in surprise. “Lynn is one of the few people here at the Institute who would know what they are and appreciate their significance – especially since you won them in the same year. It might even make you… irresistible.”

Chip glared at her, but the expression that worked so well on most people had no effect on Angie. “It’s not something I want to get into.”

She shook her head. “I don’t get why it’s such a big secret. I’m one of the few people here who know you were a champion junior rider when you were in high school.”

“And the only reason **you** know about it is because Kate opened her big mouth when she found out you show hunters,” Chip said flatly.

Angie waved that off, then frowned, thinking. “I’m surprised Lynn doesn’t know – she was practically born on a horse. I know she was riding before she could walk. She won both medals in the same year herself.”

That caught Chip up short. “She did?”

“Yeah – her junior year in high school – she was only sixteen, so she beat you by a year,” Angie said with a sly smile. “Does that pique your interest?”

“No more than before,” Chip said, knowing as the words left his mouth that it was a lie. And he had a feeling Angie knew it too.

Angie, however, didn’t call him on it. “And with that freaky memory of hers, she **should** know – did you know her brother Jack calls her ‘Lynncyclopedia’?” She regarded him thoughtfully. “Why not tell her?”

“I don’t brag, Angie,” Chip said softly.

“But to Lynn, it wouldn’t be bragging,” Angie rebutted. “To her, it would be – a common interest you two could build on.”

Chip shook his head, blowing out a frustrated breath. “You don’t let go, do you?”

“You know me better than that,” Angie shot back. “I’ve gone out riding with her at her brother’s ranch. Gorgeous place. And Lynn usually trail rides in jeans, but she fills out a pair of riding breeches **so** nicely….”

“Angie….” Chip said, his tone tired and long-suffering, even though inside, he was amused at Angie’s persistence.

Angie ignored him. “You should see her on that big grey Thoroughbred of hers – Korbel is seventeen hands if he’s an inch. Nice mover, too.” She gave him a sly smile. “Just like his rider.”

“Angie….” Chip said in a warning tone.

“He’s a dressage horse,” Angie said, continuing to ignore him, “but she still keeps her hand in over fences. She owns a jumper, and she rides her brothers’ horses – she’s even beaten me in a couple of hunter classes. She has really nice form.” Her dark-chocolate eyes twinkled.

“She handled the encounter with the shark pretty well, I have to admit,” Chip said, trying desperately to change the subject. “It took guts to go out again the next day.”

“She’s not afraid of much,” Angie said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I’ve seen her go over a six-foot-high wall on one of Kevin’s grand prix jumpers. But I think she’s a little afraid of you.”

That brought Chip up short. “Afraid of **me**? Why?”

“For the sad reason that your reputation as a serial dater with no desire for commitment precedes you,” Angie said flatly.

“I’m a what?”

“You’re right. You’re not a serial dater – you have multiple hooks out in the water at once. But my comment on commitment stands. Besides that, she thinks you’re out of her league.”

“That’s ludicrous,” Chip scoffed.

“It is, isn’t it?” Angie pulled her steno pad toward her. “It’s just a damned shame. Well, this has been fun, Christopher, but I have a busy afternoon ahead of me.

Chip frowned at her. “You’re a schemer, Angie.”

“Best you remember that. Now scat,” she said, making shooing motions with her hands. “I have important work to do.” She gave him a brilliant smile. “But we’ll talk another time.” And she turned away from him, redirecting her attention to her computer.

Chip’s frown turned into a scowl, and he left Angie’s domain for his own office. When he arrived, he called the main gate and told them to notify him when the new sonar equipment arrived. Then he dug into the work that awaited him, putting his conversation with Angie behind him.

Well, he tried, at least. Angie’s words kept popping into his head. The fact that Lynn Murtagh should be afraid of him at all was, as he’d told Angie, ludicrous. She’d never acted afraid of him. Just the opposite – she’d acted like she’d enjoyed his company – platonically, of course. She’d certainly seemed to enjoy herself at lunch the day before.

As for his part, their impromptu lunch at the bulkhead had been the highlight of his week – and he wished he’d been able to stay longer.

He liked her – and that realization set klaxons off in his head. They had a lot in common – and that was even more alarming. He didn’t date women who had backgrounds similar to his own – in fact, he stayed as far away from them as possible. It would be too easy to get too close. But in this case, would that be a bad thing?

Shaking his head as if to clear it, he lost himself in the familiar routine of paperwork.

** *** **

The installation of the new sonar add-in component was, as the manual had promised, simple and straightforward. Chip had little more to do on Thursday than keep himself and his clipboard out of the way and try not to look too bored while the department heads involved in the installation went about their business. Senior Chief Petty Officer Jack Nolan, the senior CPO in the Electronics Department, who had come to NIMR with Chip from the _USS_ _Tautog_ eight years earlier, stood near Chip, looking just as bored, but Chip knew his sharp hazel eyes were taking in every facet of the installation.

Ray Carter, _Seaview’s_ sonar officer, watched with an intent expression as Mark Videtti, _Seaview’s_ computer and electronics officer, did the actual installation. Ray was a little disgruntled that Videtti was doing the installation work on what he saw as his sonar system – when it came to his department and equipment, he was very territorial. A dedicated officer, he kept up with the latest advances in sonar technology, and often visited the contractors for updates on what was in development. He was also frequently present when the men in his department went for routine training. But it made more sense for Mark to do this installation, since the module had to be interfaced with _Seaview’s_ computer system. Ray would get his chance to play with his new toy later.

Videtti had chosen to do the installation himself, rather than leave it up to Chief Nolan or to one of his men. He opened the access door under the sonar console and levered himself into the equipment cabinet. Once inside, he found that the compact hardware module connected easily, bolting into an open bracket on the bulkhead at the rear of the compartment, connecting to an available input/output port via the attached ribbon cable. With that complete, he slipped the tape containing the new program into the console’s tape drive. “Looks good so far, XO,” Videtti announced, crawling out from under the console. He shut the access door and dusted off the seat of his khaki trousers as he stood.

“That looked simple enough,” Ray Carter said to Chip, who shrugged noncommittally and remained silent, merely noting the time of the installation on the form on his red clipboard. “XO, you are **such** a pessimist,” Carter grumbled.

Chip grinned broadly at him and stuck his clipboard under his arm, then shoved his hands into his hip pockets. “Around here, it’s a lot safer to be a pessimist, Ray. You should know that by now.”

Carter gave Chip a sheepish grin. “Yeah, XO, you’re right – again.” Ray Carter was an extrovert and even goofy at times, but when it came to sonar ops, he had ice water in his veins, and a talent for identifying nebulous contacts.

“See if the new program comes up on screen, Mark,” Chip instructed Videtti.

 _Seaview’s_ computer officer sat at the sonar console to type in a long sequence of commands at the keyboard. Momentarily, a small rectangular window appeared in the center of the sonar screen; “ _System Ready_ ” appeared in the center of the window, and was soon replaced by a rectangular cursor blinking at the uppermost left corner of the window. “Looks like we’re up and online,” Videtti said.

Chip nodded. “Good. Print out that diagnostic report, then shut her down. We’ll bring her up tomorrow and run another diagnostic.”

Carter nodded and began the procedure to shut the system down.

“Mark, pull the tape from the drive and give it to Sparks to store in the registered publications safe in the radio shack.”

“Eyes only?” Videtti asked, bending to pull the tape from the drive and enclosing it in its plastic case.

“That’s what the documentation says.” Chip initialed the routing sheet and handed it to Videtti to place in the tape case. “You know the drill.”

Videtti nodded, initialing the routing sheet and installation checklist, then stowing them in the plastic case as he left the workstation’s seat.

Chip nodded. “Ray, she’s all yours. Let’s see if this works.”

“You really think this’ll work?” Carter asked as he slipped into the seat Videtti had recently vacated, bringing the console back online and running his own diagnostic on the system.

Chip regarded him through narrowed eyes. “You’re our sonar officer – what do you think?” he parried.

“I hope so,” Carter said without stopping his typing or taking his eyes off the screen. “I won’t know until I see it in action, but if it works as advertised, it’ll save us a lot of guesswork on contacts.”

“Frankly, I’d prefer that we never have to use the system,” Chip said dryly.

“You and me both,” Carter agreed heartily.

Chip turned to Nolan. “Senior Chief, draw up a duty schedule for training.”

“It’s already been inter-officed to you, XO, with a copy in the ship’s office,” Nolan said, trying to hide a genial smirk.

“Why am I not surprised?” Chip shook his head wryly and turned to Carter and Videtti. “Write up your reports on the installation,” Chip told the two younger men. “I’ll need them for my meeting with the Admiral tomorrow.”

“Paperwork,” Videtti grumbled. “All we ever do is paperwork.”

Carter nodded agreement. “Yeah. And we don’t all thrive on it like you do, you know, XO,” he said to Chip.

“We all have our burdens to bear,” Chip said, then grinned broadly and headed for the ladder.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
>  Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
>  Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
>  Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
>  Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
>  CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
>  Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
>  Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
>  Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
>  Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
>  Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
>  Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
>  Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
>  Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
>  Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
>  Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
>  Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
>  Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
>  Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
>  Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
>  Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
>  Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
>  Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
>  Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
>  Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	4. It Sounds Harmless Enough

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

Once her paper for _Cetacean Journal_ – complete with an array of stills from _Seaview’s_ high-resolution cameras – had been accepted (which the editors had done in record time, surprising Lynn and pleasing Nelson and Lucius no end), Lynn was able to relax a bit.

The tapes of the encounter with the great white had been made available to all of the NIMR shark biologists, and with Nelson’s permission, Lynn had offered copies of the tapes to several shark biologists of her acquaintance, and all had jumped at it. She’d been on a number of conference calls, answering questions from excited shark biologists. They wouldn’t be able to write any papers based on it, but the information on the tape would help them in their own research, and once Lynn’s paper was published, they would be able to cite it in their own work.

But the bulk of her time was spent working with the dolphins. She started adding new tasks to their repertoire, tasks which she thought would eventually be of use in the diver-in-distress program. They picked some up easily but others were a little harder for them to master. Those she broke down to smaller segments, and that made it a bit easier for the dolphins to learn them. And even the errors they made gave her ideas for future training sessions.

** *** **

“Yo, Lynn!” Bob Shaughnessey called as he came into the dolphin lab. “You here?” No answer. Nick Costelloe came out of the storage room on the far side of the lab. “Yo, Nick, you know where Lynnie is?” Shaughnessey called.

His arms full of wetsuits and an airhose dangling from his mouth, Nick jerked his chin toward the tank. Shaughnessey turned to face it. There on the bottom in a lotus position sat Lynn, sans airtank but wearing a wetskin and mask, her back to him. The three dolphins swam anxiously around her, chattering in agitation.

“Aw, Lynnie, not again,” he mumbled, and crossed to the tank.

He knocked on the glass wall to get her attention. Lynn turned, then waved at him, blowing bubbles. Shaughnessey pointed to the surface, but Lynn pointed to her watch and shook her head.

The dolphins spotted Shaughnessey and swam toward the glass, chattering anxiously at him, but he shrugged. “I can’t get her to stop, either,” he said. They dashed away and resumed circling Lynn, who calmly remained on the bottom of the tank. Shaughnessey shook his head and climbed the stairs, grumbling. “Crazy woman. She’s got to see how long she can hold her breath underwater – it doesn’t matter if she scares the bejesus out of anyone who looks at her. Gotta go for that record, huh? Three minutes isn’t enough for you. No, you have to keep pushing.”

He stood on the platform and stared down at the water. Lynn looked up and waved, but stayed submerged. Shaughnessey planted his hands on his not-insubstantial hips and waited.

Lynn finally surfaced a full minute later, taking a deep gulp of air as her head broke the surface. “Three minutes, twenty-seven seconds – not bad,” she told him, pulling off her mask and treading water alongside the platform. The dolphins hovered by her side, chattering loudly, scolding her.

Shaughnessey shook his head. “You give me the creeps when you stay down there like that.”

Lynn laughed and pushed dripping hair out of her eyes. “It gives them the creeps, too,” she said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder toward the dolphins. “They can’t understand why I do it, but you’re just jealous that you can’t hold your breath as long as I can.” She looked his rotund form up and down, then grinned. “Maybe if you skipped a meal once in a while....”

Shaughnessey grimaced. “Now, now, little Lynnie, cattiness doesn’t become you.”

Maxie looked up at Bob, and Sammy sprayed a jet of water at him. Shaughnessey jumped back just a bit too late to prevent being soaked.

Lynn grinned at him. “Careful – they don’t like it when you insult me.” Behind her, Leo swam belly-up, his tail slapping against the surface of the tank.

“Sure,” grumbled Shaughnessey. “I make a crack and he soaks me. The punishment doesn’t fit the crime.”

“If you had a wetsuit on it wouldn’t have bothered you.” Lynn narrowed her eyes at him as she pushed herself out of the tank. “You know better than to wear those clothes up here.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“Lynn.”

Lynn and Shaughnessey looked into the lab to see Nick Costelloe standing beside Lynn’s lab desk, pointing to the phone. “Admiral Nelson for you on line three.”

“Uh-oh,” Shaughnessey said, and jumped back from Lynn’s murderous glare.

She swept past him and down the stairs, trying to quell her nervousness. Nelson certainly wasn’t calling to pass the time of day.

She stopped at the extension that sat under a Plexiglas splash hood at the foot of the stairs. “Line three, you said?” she asked Nick, and at his nod, pushed the blinking button. “This is Doctor Murtagh.”

“How soon can you have those dolphins of yours ready to board _Seaview_?”

Lynn swallowed hard. She knew Nelson wasn’t a man to mince words, but still.... “Um...morning, day after tomorrow?”

“Fine. We’ll see you then.”

“Uh, sir? May I ask why?”

“A Fellow from the Osborne Institute has expressed an interest in your work, and has requested to audit some field tests. Have your dolphins ready by oh-eight-hundred the day after tomorrow, Doctor. Requisition whatever you need.”

“Yes, sir, I will.” She broke the connection, then called her office. “Maureen, I suppose you know all about the Admiral’s call?”

“Of course,” came the reply. “Who do you think found you?”

“And I suppose you listened in?”

“I just couldn’t restrain my curiosity.”

Lynn sighed. “I don’t know why I should be surprised. Okay – pull the supply list we used for the last cruise.”

“Already done.”

“Then place the same requisitions as last time.”

“I’m just about to call Supply, Boss.”

“Bump up the fish order a little.”

“Any reason why?”

“We were gone an extra day last time – I don’t want to run out of food in case the same thing happens. _Seaview_ is a busy boat – no telling what might happen. We can always bring it back if we don’t use it.”

“I was going to do that anyway.”

Lynn shook her head at the smugness in Maureen’s tone. Maureen was often one, sometimes two steps ahead of her, and it never failed to annoy her. “Since you seem to have things well in hand, I’ll stay here.”

“That’s good news to me, Boss.”

“Yeah – me too.” Lynn raised her eyes heavenward in resignation and shook her head as she replaced the receiver in its cradle. Turning to Nick, she said, “You find Pete. Come on, Rocco,” she called to Shaughnessey. “We have a lot of work ahead of us. Let’s move like we’ve got a purpose.”

“Yeah,” Shaughnessey muttered. “Getting you out of our hair for a week.”

** *** **

In _Seaview’s_ nose, Lee Crane sourly looked up from the piles of paperwork that filled the table before him and over to the much smaller stacks in front of Chip Morton. They’d started with piles of equal size, but somehow, Chip’s pile of completed work was much larger, even though he’d been interrupted several times by Chiefs Sharkey, Nolan, Dockery, and Richter, all of whom had matters that needed his immediate attention. Lee imagined that he’d caught Chip smirking from time to time when he snuck a glance at him out of the corner of his eye, but when he looked at him straight on, Chip’s expression was as inscrutable as ever.

“Lee?”

Crane looked up from the morass of paperwork to see Admiral Nelson coming down the spiral staircase. Grateful for the respite, he rose and walked to meet the older man.

“Yes, Admiral?”

“I’ve contacted Doctor Murtagh. She and the dolphins will be ready by oh-eight-hundred on Wednesday.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Lee saw Chip straighten ever-so-imperceptibly in his chair. From his posture, it was all-too obvious that he’d heard Nelson’s words and was prepared to listen closely to any further information Nelson might care to impart regarding the good doctor, even though he was clearly attempting to appear totally oblivious to their presence as he paid studious attention to the work before him.

But Lee knew better. He knew that Chip’s complete attention was riveted on himself and Nelson, and that the paperwork had been instantly forgotten as soon as the magic words – “Doctor Murtagh” – had fallen from Nelson’s lips.

Lee had always had a devil in him when it came to his best friend, and there was no resisting it now, especially since he’d been such a good boy at dinner the night before he’d gone home on leave.

He heard himself saying, “I suppose you’ll be assigning Chip as her liaison again?”

If Nelson noticed the mischievous glint in Crane’s hazel eyes, he made no comment. He merely answered, “Good idea, Lee. The dolphins are already familiar with him, and he and Lynn seem to have built a rapport. Chip?”

Crane looked at Chip to see his friend looking back at him with a carefully noncommittal expression. _One of these days, Chip..._ he promised silently.

“Sir?” Chip asked blandly, rising from the table and walking to join them, his omnipresent clipboard in hand.

“Doctor Murtagh will be rejoining us on Wednesday. I’d appreciate it if you’d act as her liaison again. I realize it’s extra work for you, but you’re already familiar with her project.”

“Yes, sir. More tests with the dolphins?”

“A run-through of the same tests as last time – minus the shark, if we’re lucky, although the dolphins did perform admirably when he turned up.”

“ ‘Admirably’ isn’t quite the word I’d use, sir,” Chip pointed out.

Nelson smiled in acknowledgement. “We’ll have an observer along from the Osborne Institute in addition to Doctor Murtagh, so we’ll need to have two guest cabins readied.”

Chip nodded and made a note on his clipboard to again assign the VIP cabin to Doctor Murtagh and Guest Cabin A to their visitor. “I’ll see to that immediately. Anything else? Should I order some frozen fish?”

Nelson shook his head. “No, Chip, that won’t be necessary. The Marine Mammal department will take care of ordering any supplies they feel are essential.”

“Aye, sir,” Chip acknowledged.

“The Osborne Institute?” Lee asked.

“That’s a marine institute up in Monterey,” Chip supplied absently, making notes on his clipboard. “It’s smaller than we are.” He either didn’t notice or ignored the look of surprise Lee gave him at the unexpected information dump.

“Yes. We’ll be picking up their researcher there. But first we’ll need to test the new sonar’s capabilities – we’ll run the tests on the way to Monterey. We can run a racetrack course up and down the coast. I don’t mind having one of our own researchers along while we run them, but I don’t want any outsiders along. That will add three days to the mission.”

“Oh,” Lee said innocently. “Then the cruise will be longer than last time – and Doctor Murtagh will be with us longer.” He schooled his expression to one of bland interest, not missing the daggers Chip sent his way. _Gotcha!_ he thought with gleeful satisfaction. “More work for you, Chip. Do you think you can handle it?”

“It shouldn’t be a problem, **Captain** ,” Chip replied, placing a subtle emphasis on the last word.

If Nelson noticed the subtle undercurrents running between _Seaview’s_ command team, he ignored them. “Yes, I’d say not. Anything else?” he asked.

Chip nodded. “The sonar department has completed their training on the new installation, and the torpedo dummies are ready to employ in the test phase. I’ll have Chief Sharkey assemble a detail to load them.”

“Ever efficient,” Lee said. “You’ll need that fabled efficiency while your favorite scientist is back on board. Are you **sure** you can handle the extra duties?” he needled.

“It sounds harmless enough,” Chip said, but Lee didn’t miss the slight edge to his voice.

“It should be, provided you and Doctor Murtagh don’t tempt any more great white sharks into sampling you for lunch,” Nelson said, then left.

Chip and Lee stood watching his retreating back. “Well,” Lee ventured, “it looks like you’ll be pretty busy for the next few days.”

“Don’t remind me,” Chip said.

“Come on.” Lee raised one eyebrow at his friend. “Admit it. You enjoyed yourself the last time Lynn was here.”

“I was on light duty then, remember?” Chip pointed out. “Following Doctor Murtagh around was about all I did.”

“And you did a lot of that, too, as I recall – and you did it **so** well,” Lee said, then left the control room before Chip could retort.

Chip stared after his friend with a bemused expression. So Doctor Murtagh was coming back again? Admittedly, he was intrigued with the prospect. She’d been on his mind a lot lately, mended fences and rebuilt bridges with April, Gina, and Roseanne notwithstanding.

After their impromptu lunch date at the bulkhead the week before, he’d found himself looking for her while he walked across the Institute grounds on his way to and from _Seaview_ or his office in the Administration Building, but their paths hadn’t crossed. The vague disappointment he’d felt still echoed, though he couldn’t pin down exactly why – and that unsettled him.

He’d even gone so far as to look up her phone number. There were several Murtaghs listed in the area, but only one of those was listed as ‘L. Murtagh’ – and that one lived fairly near his condo, in an upscale townhouse development on Las Positas, the same development where Angie and Dennis lived, in an area he passed every day on his way to and from the Institute.

He’d thoroughly enjoyed being her liaison last time, even if it now had him thinking thoughts he shouldn’t. Working with the dolphins had been extremely interesting, and he’d been amazed by their intelligence and willingness to perform, and by their affection for and devotion to the young woman who so obviously loved them right back.

Working with the woman herself? That held an attraction all its own, though he’d never admit it to anyone but himself.

He found himself smiling as he thought about the upcoming cruise – it was definitely something to look forward to.

** *** **

The rest of that afternoon and the following day progressed swiftly. Lynn, Shaughnessey, and the lab assistants were caught up in the myriad details involved in getting the dolphins ready for the cruise, and in checking in the supplies as they arrived, arranging them in a logical manner.

Late on Tuesday afternoon, Lynn looked around the lab one last time. Everything that needed doing had been done – the necessary monitoring equipment and signal devices had been gathered together, the frozen mackerel and herring had arrived at _Seaview’s_ berth earlier in the day, and the slings to transport the dolphins were in place by the tank.

She shoved her hands into her pockets and sighed. “That’s it,” she told Dave Cousins. Now I have to get **me** ready.” She took her purse from the desk and turned to address the office at large. “I want everyone here at five AM tomorrow. And that means you, Shaughnessey.”

“I might as well just stay up and not go to bed,” he grumbled.

Lynn smiled with false sweetness and patted his cheek. “Whatever works, dear. And I’m outta here.”

“Gee, Lynnie, do you think the Admiral will assign you a liaison this time?” Maureen teased.

“Gee, Mo, I certainly hope so,” Lynn replied, and swept past her on the way to the door. _Let her think about that one for a while,_ she thought a bit testily.

She started up her black-and-silver Jeep Renegade and inserted a tape for the drive. As she headed out onto the highway, her thoughts turned in the direction they had so often turned lately – to _Seaview_ ’ _s_ tall, blond, blue-eyed executive officer. As usual, she tried to redirect her thoughts. _Come on, Lynnie,_ she told herself. _There is absolutely no reason for you to keep thinking about this guy. He probably thinks of you as nothing more than a supreme pain in the rear end. After all, you nearly got him killed by a shark. So what if you have a lot in common and you laugh a lot when he’s around – and he laughs right along with you. It doesn’t mean anything. Even if he does have the nicest blue eyes. And a killer smile. And the rest of him isn’t bad, either._

Lynn shook her head as if to clear it. _Whoa, girl. You’re fantasizing. That’s not like you – it must be Maureen’s influence. Now settle down and pay attention to your driving_. And that she did, successfully blocking out all thoughts of Lieutenant Commander Morton during the rest of the drive.

She found a parking spot relatively close to the drugstore in Cielo Mall, the small strip mall near her townhouse. Lynn locked the Jeep, and headed for the store.

** *** **

The small restaurant at one end of Cielo Mall was fairly empty, which suited Alexei Nagransky’s purposes. The burly, bespectacled man took a corner booth and settled in to wait. He didn’t have to wait long. He looked up as a man slid into the seat across from him. “Ah, my friend, it is good to see you.”

“And I you,” said the new arrival, smiling broadly. “How is your lovely wife?”

“Just fine,” said Nagransky. “She sends her regards.”

“I am sorry I missed her and your daughter the last time they were in town.”

“I am more sorry I wasn’t able to see your daughter on her birthday.” The burly man pushed a brightly-wrapped package across the table. “But here is a present for her, however late.”

The younger man removed the package from the table and placed it on the seat alongside him. “She will be pleased.”

“Yes, I think she will be.” Nagransky’s eyes narrowed and his voice dropped as he asked, “You have news for me?”

“My visit to _Seaview_ begins in four days.”

The husky man nodded. “We are aware of that. Limit yourself to a survey of the submarine this time, but familiarize yourself with her as much as you can.”

“That’s it?” the younger man looked confused.

“It’s enough for now. Later, once you begin your employment at Nelson –”

“What employment at Nelson?”

Nagransky tamped down his annoyance at the interruption, reminding himself again of how brash and _nekulturny_ Americans were. “You will apply for employment at Nelson,” he replied easily. “You have done all you can at Osborne.”

“What makes you so sure Nelson will hire me?”

“All in good time, my friend. As I was saying, once you begin your employment at Nelson, you will have plenty of time to gather information on _Seaview_. Just play the part of the interested scientist for now.”

“And?”

“And later you can extract information for us. The Nelson Institute is at the vanguard of sonar research. As a cetacean researcher, you may have access to their results. We have information that one of their dolphin scientists – ”

“Lynn Murtagh. I know.”

Nagransky continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “ – has made advances that have been useful in applying cetacean echolocation abilities to submarine sonar, and we would be very interested in this information. But you need to establish yourself and your security clearances first.” He smiled. “Patience, my friend. You will be well rewarded for it.”

The younger man smiled. “I had better be.”

** *** **

Chip Morton came out of the dry-cleaning establishment at one end of Cielo Mall just in time to see a very familiar figure enter the drugstore next door. “Why do I have the feeling that someone somewhere is trying to tell me something?” he muttered and changed course for the drugstore.

He worked his way through the store, looking down each aisle as he walked past, and finally found her crouched in the toiletries aisle, rummaging through bottles of shampoo on the bottom shelf and muttering to herself about shelves that needed restocking. Her hair was down, instead of pulled back into its usual ponytail, and it fleetingly occurred to him that he liked the way it looked. “Haven’t we met somewhere before?” he asked, disguising his voice.

She turned and looked up, a warning expression on her face. The glare softened to a genuine smile when she recognized him. “Commander, that has **got** to be the oldest line in creation,” she said with a grin, dropping a bottle of shampoo into her basket and standing with a swift grace. “Couldn’t you come up with something a little better?”

“It got your attention, didn’t it?” Chip parried

“That it did,” Lynn admitted.

“I hear you’ll be joining us again tomorrow,” Chip said.

Lynn nodded. “We’ll be making your life miserable for a week or so, I’m afraid.”

Chip shook his head. “I wouldn’t say it was miserable. More like...interesting.”

“Yeah – like the Chinese curse.” She nodded toward the plastic-wrapped uniforms he carried slung over his shoulder. “Gettin’ ready for tomorrow?”

He nodded. “It looks like you’re doing the same thing.”

“Last-minute odds and ends. I was out of my favorite shampoo and shower gel.”

Chip angled his head to look into the basket that sat on the floor at her feet. “Sweet pea?”

Smiling up at him, Lynn nodded. “I love the way it smells.”

She picked up the basket and began to walk to the checkout counter. She paid for her purchases and walked to the exit, where Chip stood waiting for her. She looked at him with a warily expectant expression in her green eyes.

“You don’t have to rush off anywhere, do you?” he asked as they left the store.

“Nope. What did you have in mind?” Lynn asked.

“How are your caffeine levels?”

“Dangerously low,” Lynn said with a grin.

“How does coffee sound?”

“Coffee sounds great.”

Chip gestured toward a restaurant at the other end of the mall. “Let’s go.”

“Um...will you be assigned as my liaison again?” Lynn asked hesitantly.

“According to the Admiral, I will. But I won’t be able to give you as much help as I did last time,” Chip said. ‘‘I’m not on limited duty now, and _Seaview_ comes first.”

“I understand,” Lynn said, nodding. “Well, if the cap fits, wear it.”

“Excuse me?”

She grinned. “It’s an old Irish saying, one of my granda’s favorites. It means you have to accept your responsibilities.”

Was it his imagination, or had she seemed a little disappointed when he told her he wouldn’t be around to help her as much? He began to shorten his stride to accommodate her, but then remembered that he didn’t have to. Her stride was long enough that she could keep up with him easily, and she did, swinging her shopping bag as she walked along.

** *** **

The younger man looked up in alarm as an officer dressed in working khakis and a woman in jeans and a tee shirt topped by a lightweight jacket entered the restaurant, looking in his direction as they waited for a waitress to approach them.

“Problems, my friend?” Nagransky asked.

“Two people from the Nelson Institute just walked in.”

Nagransky turned for a quick look. “Do not look alarmed, my friend,” he said. “A sailor and his girl out for a bite to eat. Very innocent.”

“Not **that** innocent – he’s _Seaview’s_ executive officer. She’s one of the researchers at the Nelson Institute.”

Nagransky shook his head dismissively. “Perfectly harmless – let them play while they can.”

“It is **not** harmless,” his companion hissed. “She’s Lynn Murtagh – the one who did the dolphin experiments I used as a cover to get aboard the submarine. It can’t be coincidence that they’re here now, when I’m supposed to be in Monterey.” He frowned. “Who knows what they might suspect.”

“Then they must be eliminated – carefully. Nothing can be allowed to endanger your cover. We’ve invested too much time and money in you.” Nagransky drained his coffee cup. “It is best that you leave now.”

“Shouldn’t I wait until they leave?”

“No – leave now so you are not seen with me. You will be contacted and given further instructions and the necessary equipment for your mission once you return to Monterey.”

The other man nodded and rose.

Nagransky managed to look inconspicuous while he mentally reviewed his options, discarding some, making note of others. It would be a shame to lose Danson just when he’d become useful, especially when they had invested so much time and money in this foolish American who loved money far more than he loved his homeland. But that could not be helped. Secrecy came first, and there were always fools willing to sell out their country for the appropriate, often quite paltry amount of cash. If Danson followed orders – and he would, as Nagransky knew from past dealings with the man, since his lack of imagination gave him no other options – he would be eliminated after he took care of the sailor and his girl, who were so innocently chatting as they waited for a table, blissfully unaware that they had precious few days left to them.

** *** **

“This place is so cute,” Lynn said, looking around as they entered the restaurant. “It reminds me of a place back home.”

“The food’s good, too,” Chip said as a waitress led them to a booth. He followed Lynn, trying not to watch the swing of her hips as she walked along.

“And with your appetite, that’s a big consideration.”

“Very funny, Doctor.” Chip hung the dry-cleaning bags on the coat rack alongside the bench seat, then slid into the booth.

“Yeah, I thought so.” She turned to take her jacket off and as she did, she collided with a man passing their table, knocking a brightly-wrapped package out of his hands. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she apologized, reaching out to steady him as he bent to retrieve the package.

“No harm done,” he said quickly as he straightened and hurried on his way.

“Are you all right?” Chip asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but I don’t know about him.” Frowning, Lynn watched the man hurry out of the restaurant, then slid into the booth, sitting opposite Chip.

She gave the menu a quick once-over, then pushed it away and slouched against the seat back. “It feels sooooo good to sit down.”

“Long day?”

“A long couple of days, ever since I got the Admiral’s call yesterday. I think I packed a week’s worth of work into a day and a half. I’m bushed, and I have to be back by five tomorrow morning.”

“Same here.”

Lynn raised a skeptical eyebrow and looked him up and down. His appearance certainly belied that statement. He looked as cool, as crisp, and as pulled together as she had ever seen him – as if he had just stepped off a recruiting poster. “Go, Navy,” she muttered.

“Come again?”

“Nothing important,” she assured him. “Just thinking out loud. You don’t look tired.”

For the slightest instant, Chip thought her expression could be considered flattering. There was a spark in those bright green eyes that he’d never seen in them before, and for a second he felt encouraged. And was that a blush creeping up her cheeks?

Then he shook his head. He’d admit it – to himself at least, if not to Lee or Angie – he **was** attracted to her, and more than just a little. But it wouldn’t work. Talk around the Institute was, the Admiral was going to be expanding the Marine Mammal Department, and that dolphin research would be the bulk of the expansion. And knowing the Admiral’s penchant for teaming people who’d already proven their ability to work together, he was sure he’d be paired with Doctor Murtagh quite often in the future.

Not that Chip minded. She’d already proven her ability and her courage, and truth be told, he’d enjoyed working with her. But if anything developed between them, a work relationship could become very awkward – especially if a personal relationship crashed and burned.

It was probably academic, anyway. So far, she hadn’t offered anything more than friendship. Anything else was just a figment of his imagination. No matter what Angie had intimated, Doctor Murtagh didn’t seem to be interested in anything more than friendship, either – at least, she didn’t act like she was. If she were, he thought, he’d have known. More than a couple of the female guests they’d hosted on _Seaview_ had come on to him, and after the cruise was over, he’d been happy to take them up on their offers. But Doctor Murtagh – he still couldn’t quite bring himself to use her first name – didn’t seem to have the slightest bit of interest in him that way. And to tell the truth, he was disappointed.

Chip was used to having women find him attractive – to be honest, he even expected it by now. That she didn’t wasn’t a blow to his ego, not really – but he **did** find it unusual. It wasn’t conceit that made him feel that way, but experience.. He still wasn’t sure why, though, because he didn’t consider himself to be especially good-looking.

“Are you hungry?” Chip asked when the waitress arrived to take their order.

Lynn shook her head. “Just coffee. I’m a little too excited to eat.”

He nodded. “Just coffee for both of us,” he told the woman. “Black.”

“So, do you want to talk about the project?” Lynn asked after the waitress left.

“If you like. I presume the tests will be the same as those you ran before?”

She nodded. “More or less – I want to do two run-throughs, varying the behaviors each time, and the length of each test. But the basic routine will be the same as last time, so you won’t need to practice. Much.” She grinned impishly.

Chip grinned right back. “That’s reassuring.”

Her grin widened. “The equipment will be the same, with one or two spiffy new additions – nothing complicated, though.”

“Also reassuring. You seem a little more confident than you did before. You’re not worried about losing them this time, are you?”

Smiling, she shook her head. “No – I’ve gotten past that. I know they’re not going to make a run for freedom – they proved that last time.”

“That’s not all they proved,” Chip said dryly.

“Hey, I’m still reeling from that – and from the way they’ve been acting in the lab, too. I feel like they’d grow wings and fly, if I asked them to.” She broke off as the waitress deposited two steaming cups of coffee on the glossy marble tabletop. “This is probably going to sound weird, but sometimes I just think about calling them to me, and they’re there.

“You’re not saying they’re psychic, are you?” Chip asked dubiously. “Or that you are?”

Lynn shook her head emphatically. “No, no – they’re probably just reading my body language. But I don’t want to rule out anything I can’t prove. Let’s just say I like to keep my options open.”

“Very practical of you, and always a good choice.”

“Not really – it’s more like wishful thinking. It would be another avenue of communication, even if it was only one-way. Sometimes I think....” Her voice trailed off uncertainly.

“You think what?”

Lynn shook her head in dismissal. “It sounds too silly, even to me.”

“Try me.”

She regarded him in silence for a moment, then shrugged. “Remember I told you that I’d captured Sammy and Maxie from the wild? Well, I felt a little guilty about it – I still do, and I suppose I always will. Anyway, not long after, Kevin and I were out diving and came upon a wild pod of bottlenose not far from where we’d captured my two. A couple of them came right up to me and...” she hesitated a moment before going on, “...and it felt like they were telling me that it was okay that I’d taken their friends’ freedom from them. That they forgave me. Sounds silly, I know, but it made me feel a little better.”

Chip regarded her thoughtfully for a moment before speaking. “There you go, being soft-hearted again,” he said softly.

“Maybe.” Lynn shrugged. “More like soft-headed, I think. But honestly, it works to my advantage. To get results, I have to see and treat each animal as an individual – a **feeling** individual. Looking at the aggregate population has very little value in my work. I’ve studied and can describe group behaviors and dynamics – the way the dolphins behaved when the shark attacked us is an example of one – but dealing with the individual holds more attraction for me. When I was in school, I had to put blinders on to get ahead – it nearly killed me, but I did it. Here, I don’t have to – to get the most out of my dolphins in the diver-in-distress program, I need to treat them as individuals, to work with their strengths and differing personalities. It works out wonderfully – for me **and** for them.”

“You don’t need to convince me – I’ve seen them in action. But you **do** sound a little defensive,” he said softly.

“I know.” Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips. “I get that way sometimes,” she admitted. “Human beings are so arrogant to think we're the only species with cognitive abilities, or emotions, or empathy. But we’re not, and I see it every day. And that’s what makes it hard at times. I'm supposed to form conclusions based on solid documented evidence – what I see, hear, touch. Intuition and empathy aren’t supposed to come into the equation at all – I'm supposed to discount my own personal feelings. But I've been around animals all my life – you **can't** discount the possibility that they have feelings, because I know they do, from a lifetime of observation. Some people think I’m crazy to love them the way I do. Maybe I am, I don’t know.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy.”

“You don’t?” Lynn asked in surprise.

“Your methods are producing results, if our encounter with the shark is any example,” Chip said, and flashed that heart-stopping smile at her.

 _Careful, Murtagh,_ Lynn cautioned herself. _You’re heading into very dangerous waters_. “I’m hoping we don’t have to test that particular behavior again.”

“You and me both, Doctor.” He smiled again.

Lynn felt that one all the way down to her toes, and thought it might be prudent to change the subject. Lowering her voice, she said, “Oh, remember that miniaturized transmitter I told you about? The pressure sensor?”

“The one for the regulator?”

She nodded. “The prototype is ready. I’ll have two to test out – one for you, one for me. It’s worked in the lab, and if we’re lucky, it’ll work in the field.”

“Well, Doctor, from what I’ve seen, you have the luck of the Irish. It will work.”

She blushed and looked away quickly, then met his eyes once more. “Let’s hope it holds.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Chip said, and he raised his coffee cup in a toast.

Lynn smiled, nodded, and touched her cup to his.“So what have you been doing with yourself?” she asked, then sipped the hot, black brew

He knew it was more than a pro forma question, that, unlike April, Gina, or Roseanne, she had a genuine interest in and understanding of his work. Unfortunately, he couldn’t answer her. “Oh, the usual.” He regretted being evasive, but there was no other option.

“Ah. The old ‘I can’t talk about it so don’t ask me,’ right?” Lynn asked wryly.

Chip nodded. “Something like that.”

“I had a feeling you were going to say that. So what **can** you talk about?”

“Your dolphins.”

That startled Lynn. She was more used to men who liked to monopolize the conversation by talking about themselves. Someone who wanted to talk about her projects was a novelty. But she shook her head. “No, I’ve bored you long enough. Besides, it’s your turn to talk.”

Chip had to smile at the way she rested her chin in her hands and cocked her head to one side. “What do you want me to talk about?” he asked her.

Lynn shrugged. “A better question might be what **can** you talk about?”

“Well…my sister is pregnant again. Number four. She’s due in early July.”

Lynn raised her cup in a salute. “Congratulations on your impending unclehood.”

Chip inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Thank you.”

“How does she feel?”

“She feels good – she came out here in April when I was hurt. She left her three kids at home and employed all of her maternal instincts on me – and it drove me nuts after the first day.” He shook his head. “It was great that she came, but a huge relief when she left.”

They both laughed at that. “You know, you remind me a little of Kevin,” Lynn said.

“Your twin brother?”

Lynn nodded. “We don’t really look anything alike, except for our hair.”

“He’s a redhead, too?”

“Strawberry blond,” Lynn said firmly.

“There’s a difference?”

“You **bet** there is,” Lynn said firmly.

“I’ll take your word for it. Why do I remind you of your brother?”

“Your attitude. The way you stay on the periphery of a discussion, with your mouth shut and your ears open.”

Chip shrugged. “That’s what my father told me to do when I went off to Annapolis.”

“Standard parental advice to sons going off to a military academy.” Lynn grinned. “It’s the same thing my mother and my uncles told Donnie when he went there.” She shook her head wryly. “They didn’t tell the rest of us that when we went to college, though.”

“Why not?”

“Because with Jack and me, they knew it wouldn’t work, and with Kevin, they knew they didn’t have to.” She shrugged. “Anyway, you hang out on the sidelines, listening, and then you jump in with a comment that settles everything. You end up with a bunch of slightly disconcerted junior officers who’d thought you were ignoring them.”

Chip raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t thought she’d watched him that closely. “You’re pretty observant, Doctor.”

She shrugged. “It’s part of my job.” Then she grinned. “Or maybe I’m just nosy.”

He grinned back. “How did your brothers take the news of the shark attack?”

Lynn laughed mirthlessly. “Not well. Kevin was upset, but to say Jack was upset would be the understatement of the century. Our Johnnie Joe was elsewhere when God passed out tact.”

“Johnnie Joe?”

“John Joseph Michael Murtagh, to be specific. My uncle and my granda and I are the only ones who call him Johnnie Joe – or Jackie, for that matter.”

“Little sister’s privilege?”

“Yup – and I take as many of them as I can - whether he likes it or not,” Lynn confirmed. “Anyway, we had a few words over the attack, and Kevin, of course, took my side.”

“You two are pretty tight, I take it.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lynn said. “We joke that if we ever get married, we’ll have to find another set of twins – or, at the very least, a brother and sister – because they’ll understand us.” She turned reflective for a moment. “Twins have a special bond. Nobody understands me like Kevin does, and vice-versa. He’s always been my best friend.” She smiled. “Like I said, we don’t look that much alike, but it’s weird – we’re mirror images of each other. Kevin’s smile crooks to the right, mine goes to the left. I broke my left arm, and Kevin broke his right. We finish each other’s sentences, we’ll call each other on the phone at the exact same time. And....” Her voice trailed off.

“And what?” Chip prompted.

She looked at him uncertainly. “Promise you won’t laugh?”

“I’ll do my best not to,” he assured her gently.

Lynn nodded in acknowledgement. “That’s what I like about you, Commander – you’re honest. Well, when Kevin had appendicitis, I had stomach cramps.”

“Cramps?” He looked a little uncomfortable.

“Not **those** cramps,” Lynn hurried to explain. “More like a bad gastrointestinal attack. I felt like someone was trying to rip my guts out. I even have witnesses, including our cousin Joey – I was at lunch in the high school cafeteria at the time. Kevin stayed home sick. But don’t feel bad – my mother doesn’t believe it either.” She gave him a tired smile.

“And Jack?”

“He’s not sure what to believe.” She shrugged. “I don’t think he wants to believe it, either.”

“He sounds like the practical sort,” Chip mused. “You should get along beautifully.”

“We do, most of the time. I think he’s even more practical than I am,” Lynn confirmed. “Jack drives everybody in our family crazy. Sometimes he’s the brother from hell and others, he’s the sweetest guy you’d ever want to meet. He means well, and despite it all, he’s pretty lovable. He’s five-eleven, huskier than Kevin, who’s your height, but maybe ten pounds lighter – broad shoulders, wide chest, no waist, no hips, no rear end. Wiry, though, not skinny. Donnie’s in between the two of them, and I think he’s still growing – or still filling out, anyway. He wanted to go jets, like Joey and Jimmy, but he ended up a helo pilot. The needs of the service – you know how that goes.”

“Yes, I do,” Chip agreed. “Did that bother him?”

“Y’know, not as much as I thought it would have – as long as he’s a pilot, he’s happy.” She sighed. “He’s the only one in the family who prefers flying to riding. And he looks **so** good on a horse.” She smiled, then shrugged. “Poor soul can’t carry a tune in a handbasket, though.”

“Do any of them have your eyes?’ The question slipped out of its own volition and Chip raised his coffee cup to hide behind it momentarily while he attempted to recoup his poise.

“My...eyes?” Lynn asked, confused at the abrupt change in subject.

 _Go for it,_ Chip told himself, regaining his confidence. _It can’t hurt. See what happens._ “Your eyes – I don’t think I’ve ever seen eyes quite that color.

 _He’s flirting with you,_ she told herself. Not sure how to take it, she decided to play it as straight as she could. “No...Jack has hazel eyes, Donnie’s are dark blue, and Kevin’s are so changeable I never know what color they are – blue, green, somewhere in the middle – it depends on what he’s feeling or what he’s wearing.”

The forced innocence in her eyes and in her response to his sally told Chip that she knew exactly what he’d tried to do, but had decided to ignore it. Maybe that approach wouldn’t work with her. Then he flashed back to the conversation he’d had with Angie in her office _. “I think she’s a little afraid of you. She thinks you’re out of her league.”_ He’d dismissed it then, but now it seemed to make sense. _Okay, he said to himself, if that’s the way you want to play it...._ “How did Donnie like Annapolis?”

She seemed relieved that he’d changed the subject. “He liked a lot of it, and he hated a lot of it. He’s a good kid. Sensitive, maybe too much for the job he has to do. He was a firstclassman the year women were first admitted.”

“Seventy-six,” Chip murmured.

Lynn nodded. “Yeah. A lot of the guys really came down on them, but Donnie never did – despite pressure from some of his classmates to do so. I’m real proud of him for that.”

“Yes, I can see where you would be.”

She flashed him a quick smile. “He had problems with the hazing, and he took it upon himself to stop as much of it as he could. He took a lot of crap for it, but he used to ask himself if he’d want anyone treating his sister like that.”

“And of course the answer was no.”

“Of course.” Lynn smiled, then turned solemn. “He absolutely hated it – the hazing. He made it through his plebe year by following the advice I gave him.”

“Which was?”

“That it was all a game, and that the way to win was to come out of it four years later with a gold stripe on each shoulder board. But he had to play the game by their rules, and those rules could change at any time. You win by being adaptable. And never, **ever** , lose your temper.”

Chip pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Sounds like you’ve been through something similar.”

“I’m a woman in a man’s profession, Commander,” she said simply.

He was sure there was a story behind that comment, but he let it pass for the moment. “So your brother doesn’t approve of hazing, huh?”

“You don’t have to humiliate people and rob them of their dignity and self-respect to make them into good leaders,” Lynn stated.

Chip said nothing, just gave her a smug smile in return.

“What’s that smile for?” Lynn demanded. “Don’t tell me you **support** the traditional system,” she asked, her eyes widening in surprise.

Chip shook his head. “No. I happen to agree with your brother. It’s lightened up, you know. Your brother had it a lot easier than we did.”

Lynn nodded. “I know – I’ve heard stories from my cousins.”

“Why didn’t you go into the Navy?” Chip asked.

“Me?” she asked in surprise. “Oh, no. The career path for women in the Navy is too restricted for my taste. Besides, I probably would have told off the first superior officer who gave me what I thought was a stupid order.” She grinned. “And anyway, I wouldn’t look good in the silly uniforms they make women wear. They look like crossin’ guards, for cryin’ out loud. The guys have it a lot better – hell, Donnie looks like he could pose for a recruiting poster.”

“All-American, huh?”

“Oh, yeah. Donnie is sinfully good-looking – dark blond hair, dark blue eyes. I’m his big sister and I can even recognize it. And he can charm the clouds out of the sky to give you a sunny day whenever you want one. But what’s great about him is that he doesn’t even realize how handsome he is. He’s so innocent of it, and women just throw themselves at him.”

“You sound surprised,” Chip said, hiding his amusement.

“I guess I am,” Lynn admitted.

“Of what? That he’s so unconcerned with his looks or that women love him?”

“Both, I guess. Personally, I can’t see why any woman would throw herself at a man. You should have more self-respect than that. And, it’s been my experience that most extremely good-looking men – hunks, if you will – are very aware of their looks and use them without conscience or reservation.”

“Wow,” Chip said, taken aback for a moment. “That’s a pretty damning indictment of an entire gender,” he said.

Lynn shook her head. “Nope – just the self-centered specimens. And I apply that to women, too.”

“Ah – equal opportunity criticism,” he said dryly.

Lynn shrugged. “Hey, I call it like I see it.”

“So I’ve noticed.” Chip looked up; with the dinner hour approaching, the restaurant was starting to fill up. “We should probably think about leaving – they may need our table soon. Unless you’ve changed your mind and you’d like something to eat?”

Lynn shook her head. “No, thanks. I still have to pack and I’m really not hungry yet, anyway. I’ll open a can of soup at home later.”

“Then we’d better go.”

Before he could offer to help her, she had risen, shrugged on her light jacket, picked up the check, and sauntered away from the booth and toward the register.

Chip stood for a moment, staring after her in surprised consternation. He wasn’t used to such casual detachment. His effect on women was near-legendary, and here was Doctor Murtagh acting like he was…one of her brothers. It wasn’t that women invariably fell at his feet whenever he so much as looked at them – though some did, the type that Doctor Murtagh had damned earlier. Others pursued him in a more aggressive manner. If the truth be known, he wasn’t fond of that type and avoided their overtures, preferring to be the hunter and not the prey. But in general, when he and a woman took a fancy to each other, they acted on that interest. Was Doctor Murtagh interested? It was hard to tell. Sometimes she looked at him as if she were, but at others....

He’d never been this confused by any woman before. He usually knew exactly how he felt and exactly how they felt. Now, he wasn’t so certain. Perplexed, he gathered his dry-cleaned clothing, followed her to the register and plucked the check from her hand.

“Hey,” Lynn protested, trying to grab the check back.

Chip shook his head. “My idea, my treat,” he said flatly, holding the check out of her reach and blocking her attempts to retrieve it with his dry-cleaning.

“That’s not necessary, y’know,” Lynn protested.

“It certainly is,” he said calmly.

Lynn gave him a measuring stare, then shrugged and smiled. “Okay. Have it your way.” She stepped back and let him take her place in line. “Thank you.”

He winked at her, then handed the check to the cashier, pulling his wallet out of his hip pocket. “That’s what I like – an agreeable woman.”

Lynn snorted. “That’s not my default setting, so enjoy it while it lasts, Commander.”

“Believe me – I am.”

** *** **

Lynn felt like a coward.

Something about his smile, his easy charm, got to her, both physically and emotionally. She wondered if she wasn’t just reacting to the desire for a man in her life – a man who wasn’t a brother, a cousin, a colleague, or a friend, but something more…personal. Someone who made her pulse quicken, her hands shake. Someone she couldn’t wait to see each day, to spend time with.

It was thoroughly unprofessional to think of him in those terms, but it was also impossible to refrain from doing so. His personality, once he relaxed his air of command, was warm and open and easygoing – and so inviting. She was amazed – he actually listened when she babbled on about her brothers and dolphins. It seemed so unfriendly to stand there so close beside him without touching him. But touching him would have seemed a bit too friendly, so Lynn jammed her hands into her pockets, letting her shopping bag dangle from her wrist.

He had a killer smile, Lynn admitted to herself. And if there weren’t so many obstacles in the way, she just might let him know she was interested. But things were just starting to come together for her at the Institute – she was actually getting on _Seaview_ now, and if they **did** get involved, and things between them ended badly, it would be very uncomfortable for both of them.

And his reputation scared the living hell out of her. Real or not, even if only fifty percent of the rumors and speculation were true, he was way out of her league.

He paid the bill and they left the restaurant, walking out into the gathering dusk.

He smiled, and Lynn’s stomach turned over. Why did she feel so rewarded when he turned that smile on her?

“Where are you parked?” At her questioning expression, he said, “I’ll walk you to your car.”

Lynn gave him a big smile. “Chivalry isn’t dead.”

“Not around here, it isn’t.”

She grinned. “I’m down at the end, near the flagpole.”

They started off toward the Jeep. Chip looked inside before Lynn unlocked the door. “You can’t be too careful.”

“You sound just like Jack,” Lynn muttered.

“Your brother is right.”

Lynn nodded. “I know he is. But I’d never admit it to him.” She climbed up into the Jeep, dropping her shopping bag onto the front passenger seat. Chip shut the door behind her. She started the car, rolling the window down. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early.” Chip gave her a grin and shifted the dry-cleaning bags.

“Can I, uh, give you a lift to your car?”

Chip shook his head. “I’m only across the aisle.” He pointed to a white 1972 Mustang fastback a few yards away.

“ **That's** your car?” Lynn asked in surprise. “The white Mach 1? Oh, you’re kidding me!” Her mouth dropped open as she leaned around him to look at the car in question.

“Yes, it is.” Chip frowned at her reaction. “Something wrong?”

“No, not at all.” Lynn's look of surprise changed to a smile. “I ogled it for a while after I parked. What a beauty – you’ve kept it in good shape.”

Chip smiled in acknowledgement. “Thank you. I bought it when I took the Admiral’s job offer.”

She cocked her head to one side to look up at him, in a gesture that was becoming very familiar to Chip. “Kind of a celebration present?”

Chip looked at her in surprise. “That’s exactly why I bought it.”

“I used to drive a Sixty-six Mustang,” Lynn said, and he thought he heard something like wistfulness in her voice. “It was my high school graduation present.”

“I had one, too.”

Lynn's eyes widened. “Really?”

Chip nodded. “It was my graduation present from Annapolis.” He smiled. “What a coincidence.”

“Yeah.” Lynn lifted an eyebrow. “We **do** seem to have a lot of those, don't we?”

Chip gave her an unabashed grin. “Great minds, as they say.”

“So they do. But in this case, it was both sets of parents who had the great minds,” Lynn pointed out.

Now wasn’t the time to tell her that his father had been the one to buy the Mustang for him, since his mother had passed away the summer before his first-class year. So he merely said “Good point,” making a “that’s one for you” mark in the air between them. “So you had a Mustang,” he said with a smile, leaning his left hip against the front fender of the Jeep.

Lynn nodded. “Yup – with a custom paint job, too. Starfire Blue – deep navy metallic. It even had an AM/FM radio, which wasn't usual back then.”

“And you traded it in on a Jeep,” Chip said, shaking his head in mock sorrow. “Doctor, how **could** you?”

Lynn shook her head. “No – when I got my Jeep, I gave the Mustang to Donnie. The timing was perfect – he was a secondclassman and was finally allowed to have a car. He was gaga over that Mustang from the day I got it, and he was over the moon when I gave it to him. Now it's back at the farm, in the equipment barn, being lovingly tended to by my Uncle Joe. It's still registered, and I drive it when I go home to visit.” She shook her head. “Mister Naval Aviator got himself a Corvette when he got his wings.”

“That's the stereotypical flyboy car,” Chip told her.

“Yes, it certainly is – and there are three of them in the family. Unkie outgrew his when he hit flag rank.”

“Why a Jeep?”

“Practicality. Dive gear, saddles – they fit better in the Jeep’s cargo area than they do in a Mustang. I have to tell you, though – I was sorely tempted to buy a Mach 1 in Seventy-three. That was one sweet car.” She made a face. “The Mustangs today – gah. They’re just pale imitations of the real thing.”

“Why am I not surprised that you like muscle cars?” Chip asked dryly.

“Hey – I was the only girl in the family, remember?” she asked. “Living with all those boys influenced me.”

“I have no problem picturing you as a tomboy,” Chip said with a grin.

Lynn nodded. “That was me, all right. I used to out-boy the boys on a lot of things, too – I had a better hook-shot, and none of them could turn a double play or lay down a bunt like I could.”

They paused to watch a rent-a-cop eye them as he drove by in a security vehicle. “We’d better get going,” Chip said.

“That’s probably a good idea.” She paused, as if considering what to say. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bright and early,” they said at the same time.

Chip stepped back and Lynn shifted into reverse. She pulled out of the parking slot, watching him in her rearview mirror as she drove down the lane and out onto the roadway.

Chip took his car keys from his pocket, pensively bounced them in the palm of his hand as he watched her drive away, then strode to his own car for the short drive home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
> Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
> Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
> Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
> Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
> CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
> Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
> Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
> Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
> Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
> Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
> Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
> Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
> Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
> Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
> Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
> Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
> Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
> Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
> Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
> Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
> Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
> Senior Chief Bill Dockery John Doman  
> Senior Chief Don Richter Robert John Burke  
> Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
> Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
> Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	5. Don't Bet on Anything Sure Around Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

The next day was a typical Southern California morning – the forecast indicated that it would be sunny and warm, and even at this early hour, there was nary a cloud in the pinking sky.

Chip uncharacteristically let his concentration slip a bit as he drove in to the Institute. He was rudely jerked back to reality by the black Jeep Renegade that swung in front of him on the ramp leading from Coast Road. His eyes were drawn to the driver, and he smiled as he recognized her. Hair that riot of colors could only belong to one person.

At the next light, he pulled up in the next lane, slightly behind the Jeep, and looked it over. He hadn’t taken a detailed notice of it in the parking lot the night before – _And why is that?_ a little voice asked him - abut he took in all the details now. Jet black, it had chrome wheels, grille, and running boards. The hood proclaimed “Renegade” in large silver lettering, while a thin silver triple stripe ran along each rocker panel from front to back. The frame around the license plate read “My other car is a horse,” one bumper sticker read “USS Nimitz - CVN 68,” while yet another, next to a red-and-white “diver down” flag shaped like a dolphin, displayed the logo of the Cousteau Society. Still another proclaimed “Fly Navy,” while another, in red, white, and blue, proclaimed “AHSA,” over the familiar logo of the American Horse Shows Association. And two decals with the logos of the New York Yankees – the linked NY and the top-hat-and-bat design – were located at the lower corners of the back window. _Well_ , Chip thought, _there’s no mistaking where the good doctor’s sentiments lie_.

The Jeep’s windows were wide open and Chip could hear _Let it Rain_ by Eric Clapton wafting toward him on the breeze. Doctor Murtagh was keeping time with the music, tapping the fingers of her right hand against the steering wheel as she sang along.

Then the light changed and she was off. _Little leadfoot_ , Chip thought, and the driver behind him honked impatiently. Then he stepped on the gas and followed her. It was easy to see she’d learned to drive in New Jersey. She drove in typical Jersey style, zigzagging from lane to lane as traffic opened up. But she seemed to be a careful driver, always signaling before a lane change, her head whipping around as she monitored the shifting traffic patterns around her, never tailgating or cutting a lane-change too close.

Chip pulled into the garage beneath the Administration Building three cars behind her, and parked in his assigned spot. He spotted the Jeep parked two rows over and headed in that direction.

He was surprised when she remained in her car. Puzzled, he quickened his steps.

She was just swinging down from the Jeep as he walked up. “Hi,” she said, then frowned. “What’s the matter?” she asked.

He could see concern in her eyes. Then he realized that his expression gave entirely too much away, and he composed his features. “You took your time getting out of the car – I thought something might be wrong.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head and walked around to the back of the Jeep and opened the tailgate to get her luggage. “I just wanted to hear the end of that song.”

Chip blew out a short breath. “I should have known. Here, let me get that for you,” he said as he reached into the small cargo area behind the back seats for her duffle, bringing him close enough to smell her perfume. It was light, floral, definitely understated, and very feminine. He felt a shiver go down his spine and froze, surprised at his reaction.

“Problem?” Lynn asked.

 _Damn,_ he thought; he should have realized she’d notice. “No, nothing,” he said in as casual a voice as he could manage. “I just didn’t want to hit you with your bag.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He nodded. “Did anyone ever tell you that you drive like a maniac?

“Yeah, every Californian I’ve ever met,” Lynn said, shouldering her tote and briefcase. “Like they have any room to talk.”

Chip closed the tailgate before Lynn could. “I’m from New Jersey, too, remember?”

Lynn grinned and shook her head. “Commander, you’ve been gone so long, it doesn’t count anymore.”

“That’s an interesting way of looking at it,” Chip conceded, looking at his watch. “I know I said bright and early, but this is **early**.”

“If you’re not early, you’re late.”

Chip froze for a second, startled to hear one of his favorite sayings coming out of her mouth.

She apparently didn’t notice his reaction, because she was still talking.“This way I can get myself settled, then get the dolphins settled. My staff is handling the transfer, so I can be in the tank compartment when they arrive. Do I have the same cabin as last time?”

“You’re in the VIP cabin again,” Chip told her. “For you, Doctor, nothing but the best.”

“And that’s why you’re my liaison, right?”

He looked down at her. There was no coquetry in her expression, just a simple question and an honest smile. “Right,” he said.

Lynn followed him down the brow; they completed the formalities of boarding on deck with Chief Richter, _Seaview’s_ Master At-Arms, who had quartermaster duty that day. Once inside the sail, she gestured toward the blue nylon duffle. “Nothing breakable.”

“You learn pretty fast,” Chip said and dropped it through the hatch to the deck below, following it with his own. “These we carry, I suppose?” he asked, indicating Lynn’s briefcase and tote.

Lynn smiled and handed him the tote to carry. “You learn pretty fast, too.”

“It’s one of the prerequisites of the position,” Chip said, and preceded her down the ladder.

They made perfunctory “good mornings” to the crewmen present in the control room, then Chip escorted Lynn back to the cabin she’d be using. “Are you ready to take on Lieutenant O’Brien?” he asked.

Lynn pulled a cassette out of her canvas briefcase’s front pocket and waved it at him. “I came prepared. This is one of five tapes I made up and I promise you, Mister Lieutenant Trivia will never know what hit him.”

Chip gave a low laugh. “The whole boat will enjoy that.”

She cocked her head up to look at him. “I even brought a present for Riley.”

“A present?” Chip lifted an eyebrow.

“Uh-huh. _Born to Run_ , and Boston’s two albums. I hope he’ll be inspired by some super-nice guitar work.” She grinned. “If that doesn’t work, well, there’s always Meat Loaf.”

“I think he inspired your driving style,” Chip said dryly. " _Bat Out of Hell_?"

She flashed him a delighted grin. “Very good! I like that.”

Chip shrugged deprecatingly. “I have my moments.”

“Yes, Commander, you sure do.”

Chip filed that comment away for later examination. “If you need help, yell, and I’ll be sure you get it,” he said.

“Thanks. I’ll try not to bother you too much this time around. Hey, can I get the Dolphin Detail back?”

“If you want them,” Chip affirmed.

“Sure I want them. Make sure you assign the same guys, okay?”

“They should already be on duty in the tank room. But are you really sure you want Riley again?”

Lynn nodded. “Yeah. He’s a nice kid. Terrible taste in music, but nice just the same. We made a good team last time and there’s no reason why we shouldn’t now. He’s like an overgrown puppy, but he’s good-natured, and the dolphins like him.”

“That’s an important consideration, I suppose,” Chip said solemnly, a teasing light in his eyes.

“That it is,” Lynn confirmed. “They take very definite likes and dislikes to people, and they’re not shy about making them known.” She smiled. “They like Ski and Riley, and they like you, too.”

“They do, do they?” Chip asked, not even trying to hide his amusement.

“Yes, they do,” Lynn told him. “They’re happier when they’re around people they like, and when they’re happy, they work better.”

“Sounds like a win-win.”

“It feels like one, too. And who knows? Maybe some of my musical preferences will rub off on Riley.”

“We can but live in hope. Everyone is fed up with his obsession with the Beach Boys.” Chip reached past her to unlock and open the cabin door. “You’ll need help every few hours, right?”

“You have a good memory.”

“Most of the time. Shall we meet for lunch?” he asked, handing her the key.

“Uh-huh, sure,” Lynn agreed. If she was surprised at his suggestion, she didn’t show it.

“I’ll see you at twelve-hundred in the wardroom,” he said, then backtracked to his own cabin next door.

Lynn unpacked, got her toiletries and personal items in a semblance of order, changed to a pink and teal wetskin, which she covered with a royal blue sweatsuit, then walked down to the tank room.

The Dolphin Detail was already there, waiting. “Eh, what’s up, Doc?” Stu Riley asked. Behind him, Kowalski groaned.

“Cute, Rile. Corny, but cute,” Lynn said, with a wry grin.

“Yeah, it was, wasn’t it?” Riley asked, beaming.

“Good thing for you I like Bugs Bunny,” Lynn told him.

“Welcome back, Doc,” Kowalski said. “The test equipment and your diving equipment are all on board, and Chief Nolan down called from dockside – he said the trucks with the dolphins just arrived alongside.”

“Then we’d better get to work.” Lynn stripped off her sweatsuit and deposited it onto the nearby worktable, grimacing as she tried to slip her hands into non-existent pockets on her wetskin. “I live for the day when they make wetsuits and wetskins with pockets.”

“Mister Morton said something like that just last week,” Riley said, grinning.

“Did he, now?” she asked in what she hoped was an offhand manner. “Well, speaking of wetsuits, you’d better get changed into yours – it’s gonna get pretty messy in here.”

“Will you be all right until we get back?” Kowalski asked.

She smiled at his concern, “Sure will, Ski. I’ll just start getting things set up in here.”

“Be back in a flash, Doc,” Riley said, and they hurried out the door.

Lynn heard the hatch above open. “Doc? You down there?”

“Hi, Chief,” she called, recognizing Chief Dockery’s voice. “You guys all set up there?”

“They’re just lifting the first one now.”

And Riley and Kowalski wouldn’t be back for a while. _Well_ , Lynn thought, _I can handle this on my own. It won’t be the first time I’ve moved dolphins all alone._ “Who’d they load first?”

Dockery turned away momentarily, then looked down through the hatch again. “Maxie. Here she comes.” He moved away and the hatch filled with the shape of the canvas sling containing the dolphin.

Lynn winced as Maxie emitted a single, long, high-pitched squeal. “Easy, baby girl, easy,” Lynn called, hoping to reassure the big female with the sound of her voice. She jumped down into the tank as the sling came closer. “I’m right here – it’s okay.” The dolphin quieted substantially at the sound of Lynn’s voice, chattering what sounded like a brief question.

Lynn reached up, caught the descending sling, and steadied it. “It’s okay, baby. You remember _Seaview_.”

Maxie whistled once as the sling touched the water, then swam off as Lynn unhooked the sling, gliding through the water, investigating the tank.

Lynn looked down at Maxie as the dolphin stopped in front of her, looking at Lynn expectantly. “And what do you have to say for yourself, my girl?”

Maxie chattered in reply, then looked up and whistled as the second sling came through the hatch.

The dolphin in the sling complained all the way down to the water, his complaints growing louder as he realized that Lynn was nearby.

Lynn didn’t even have to ask to know that the sling contained Sammy. The big male was the most talkative of all three dolphins, and never hesitated to complain about situations he disliked. “I know, Sammy, I know.” Lynn quickly freed Sammy from the sling and he joined Maxie, who joined in his complaints.

“Come on, guys, quiet down. I won’t have any eardrums left if you keep this up.” The dolphins quieted slightly, then started up again when they spotted the sling containing Leo. “Oh, hell,” Lynn muttered. “I’m glad there are only three of you. My poor ears couldn’t take too much more of this.”

In contrast to the two older dolphins, Leo remained calm and quiet as he was lowered through the hatch, merely chirping a greeting to Lynn as she released him. He greeted the other two dolphins, then swam off to inspect the tank.

“My ears thank you, my Leo-love.” She waved up toward Dockery, who’d poked his head back through the hatch after the empty sling was retrieved. “Thanks, Chief.”

“No problem, Doc. See ya later.” And he was gone.

Riley and Kowalski arrived just as the sling disappeared through the access hatch. “We missed the hard part, huh?” Riley asked as the hatch above closed with a loud clang and a slight hiss of compressed air as the watertight seals engaged.

“No, you missed the **loud** part, Stu.” Lynn hauled herself out of the tank and crossed to the freezer, removing three portions of frozen fish.

“Lunch?” Kowalski asked.

“Dinner. Breakfast and lunch are already defrosted and in the coolers. You can start gutting them and inserting the vitamins now,” Lynn directed. “Hey, Rile, c’mere. I have something for you.” She rummaged in a utility case near the freezer, and removed three audio cassette cases that had been rubber-banded together. “Here.”

“For me?” Riley’s eyes lit up. “Thanks!”

“Time to start listening to better stuff than that surfer music, Stu.” Lynn grinned at Kowalski, who gave her a thumbs-up. “Two are Boston, and one is _Born to Run_.”

Riley ripped off the cellophane from the topmost cassette and flipped the clear tape case open. “This is good stuff, Doc?”

“Does it for me,” Lynn replied. “’Course, you won’t hear it on that retro oldies station you listen to,” she said.

“Hey, Doc, it has its merits,” Riley protested.

“So does this stuff. Trust me.” She gave him a sly smile. “And the dolphins like it. You want to stay on their good side, don’t you?”

“Blackmail, huh?”

Lynn shook her head. “More like bribery. Now, let’s get to work.” She removed the portable stereo from one of the utility cases by the worktable, then slipped in a tape. Seconds after she hit the play button, _A Hard Day’s Night_ spilled out of the speakers.

“Y’know, Doc, you love the water so much, you’d think you’d love surfer music,” Riley said.

“Riley, I love horses, too, but I don’t like much country music, either,” Lynn said dryly. “Country rock, now – maybe I’ll make up a country rock tape for you next time.” She frowned at him. “How’d you get so into surfer music, anyway?”

“My older sister loves it, Doc. She always had it on when I was a little kid. It just grew from there.”

“But you **do** like other kinds of music, right?”

“Let me put it this way, Doc – you like other music besides The Boss, right?”

Lynn smiled. “Yeah, Riley, I do.”

“Me too.” He gave her that innocent smile that made him look about sixteen years old. “Just not as much.”

“Well, Riley, I’m gonna do my best to change that.”

“Have at it, Doc.” Riley grinned. “It’s an easy way of expanding my music collection.”

Lynn shook her head wryly. “Get to work.”

** *** **

After he left Doctor Murtagh, Chip proceeded next door to his own cabin, where he quickly stowed his belongings, many years’ habit allowing him to make short work of the job. Then he made sure his gig line was straight and left for the control room.

Lee was already there when Chip arrived, busily taking reports from various crewpersons. He turned and smiled when he saw Chip approach. “Richter says the dolphins are coming aboard now. Is Lynn aboard yet?”

Chip nodded, taking up his clipboard. “I just took her to her cabin. I’d say she’s probably in the tank room by now.” He paused while Sharkey came over, handing Chip a clipboard. Chip read over the paperwork on it, then nodded and initialed the hardcopy, handing the clipboard back to Sharkey. “Fine, Chief – thanks.”

“Took her to her cabin, huh?” Lee asked in a low voice intended only for Chip’s ears after Sharkey walked aft. “Cozy.”

“You never stop, do you?” Chip said without looking away from his clipboard as he moved aft to check readouts on the computer.

Undaunted, Lee followed. “I don’t make the news – I just report it,” he asserted, grinning.

Chip glared at him and walked forward to the chart table.

Unchastened, Lee followed. “You two talk a lot, don’t you?”

“ **She** talks a lot,” Chip corrected. “ **I** listen.”

Lee snorted. He was about to say more when Chief Richter’s voice came over the 1MC. “Skipper, the dolphins are aboard, the hatch to the tank compartment is secure, and we’re ready to cast off lines.”

“That was fast,” Chip said softly.

“Faster than last time. We must be getting the hang of loading noisy dolphins.” Crane picked up the mike. “Very well, Chief. Stand ready.”

“Aye, sir.”

Crane racked the mike and proceeded as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Why don’t **you** do some of the talking for a change?”

Chip regarded him in silence for a moment, then turned back to his clipboard. “You’re a real bulldog, aren’t you?”

Crane ignored the comment. “Ask her if she’d like to watch us take _Seaview_ out.”

Chip looked at him in momentary surprise, then smiled and nodded. “She’ll like that.”

Crane raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you know her that well already, do you?”

Chip looked at him levelly. “I’m starting to.”

“So what are you waiting for?” Crane prodded.

Chip grinned and tossed the clipboard and pencil to the chart table. “We’ll be back in a minute.”

** *** **

Chip stopped dead in surprise as he cracked open the hatch to the tank room and the theme from Star Wars flooded out, the music surging and wafting around him. Regaining his composure, he stopped to listen for a moment, then walked toward Doctor Murtagh, who stood with her back to him. “You brought your own soundtrack, I see,” he said with a half-smile.

She spun, a welcoming smile lighting her face as she saw him. “It’s the only thing this lovely grey lady was missing the last time we were here.”

Maxie popped her head above the tank rim and began squealing. Then she started tail-walking the length of the pool and back before somersaulting down into the water and swimming back to chatter at Chip.

“What’s the matter with her?” he asked Lynn.

“Hey, Mister Morton, I think she remembers you,” Riley said.

Chip looked at Riley skeptically, then looked at Lynn for confirmation.

Lynn nodded. “She remembers you. They have great memories, and I think she’s a little partial to you, anyway.”

“She remembers me,” Chip said doubtfully, pleased and disconcerted at the same time. “Well, I suppose an effusive greeting is better than having my cover shot off my head.”

“And it’s a lot drier, too.” Lynn gestured toward the tank, where Maxie’s chattering had intensified. “You’d better say hello. She’ll only up the volume until you do.”

“Hello, Maxie,” Chip said, somehow feeling less silly than he had the first time he had done this. The female dolphin popped her head out of the water and chattered loudly. Then the two males joined her and added their voices to the cacophony. “Leo, Sammy,” Chip acknowledged, though, even to himself, he sounded a bit stiff. “Welcome aboard.”

Lynn smiled up at him. “Now, that was a nice touch.”

Behind her, Kowalski and Riley grinned at each other, and Chip began to feel slightly uncomfortable. “Are you busy right now?” he asked Lynn.

Lynn turned to look at the dolphins, who had quieted considerably since Chip’s greeting. “Kind of. We’re just getting ready to feed the dolphins their breakfast. Why? Do you need me for something?”

“The Captain would like to see you in the control room.”

“That doesn’t sound like an offer I can refuse,” Lynn said, crossing to the piles of equipment and pulling on her sweatsuit. “But first....” She dug in an equipment box and handed him a videotape. “The last movie was missing something.”

“And what, pray tell, was that?” Chip asked.

“Cartoons.”

Chip pulled the tape out of the cardboard sleeve and read the label, then grinned. “Bugs Bunny. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Lynn said, then turned to her assistants. “When you finish with the vitamins, feed them – and don’t let them take advantage of you.”

“No problem, Doc,” Kowalski assured her.

Chip gestured toward the hatch. “After you.”

Those of _Seaview’s_ officers on watch in the control room greeted Lynn as Chip escorted her past the duty stations.

“Hey, Lynn, welcome back,” Bobby O’Brien called from his station beside the Christmas Tree.

“I would’ve thought you’d had enough last time,” Mark Videtti said.

“I’m a glutton for punishment,” Lynn said, smiling. “Besides, I figure lightning – or great whites – won’t strike twice.”

“Don’t bet on anything sure around here,” Larry Baker said.

Crane came aft from the nose to meet them by the periscope island. “Hello, Lynn. All settled?”

“Things look good so far. You wanted to see me? Is everything okay?”

Crane nodded, smiling. “How would you like to watch us take _Seaview_ out to sea?”

Lynn’s mouth dropped open and her eyes widened. For a moment, she was speechless. Then she regained her composure. “Me?” she asked, appalled at the squeak that substituted for her voice. “Here?” At least that came out a little closer to her normal voice.

“You,” Crane said, his smile widening. “Right here.”

She cleared her throat. “Are you guys sure you want a goggle-eyed civilian in the control room?”

“I think we can stand it for a while,” Chip said solemnly, then smiled. “We’ll find you a spot that’s out of the way. That is, if you want to watch.”

“ **Want** to? You **bet** I want to!”

“Come on over here,” Lee said, walking toward the plot table. “Mister Videtti, take her out.”

“Aye, sir,” Videtti acknowledged.

Lynn joined him between the plot table and the spiral staircase, where they stood facing aft. Her expression was akin to that of a child on Christmas morning, her eyes wide and bright, taking in everything around her. On her right, Lee observed her in undisguised delight, while Chip, standing to Lynn’s left, retained a more dignified mien. But a smile lit his eyes as he watched her.

Lynn didn’t have time to notice either of them. Her eyes flitted around the control room, lighting upon the helm and planesmen, then on sonar, then on the Christmas Tree, its lights all green. She listened to Videtti giving the orders to leave the dock, heard the orders acknowledged by the crew. She turned to look out the vast windows as Seaview left her berth for the freedom of the sea. Chatter from the control room caught her attention and she reluctantly turned her back on the vista the four large windows provided, looking from one duty station to the other.

They slowly moved away from _Seaview’s_ dock and out into the channel, gradually picking up speed. Once they were clear of any pleasure boats and in sufficiently deep water, Bobby O’Brien gave the orders to dive. Lynn stood there wide-eyed, listening to the ping of sonar, the hissing of air and the gurgling of water as the ballast tanks filled the hull-popping noises as _Seaview_ slowly dove. She remained silent, though she was itching to ask dozens of questions.

Lee stepped behind her and gently placed his hands on her shoulders, turning her to face the nose once more. “Look,” he said, gesturing toward the observation nose. The water boiled up and over _Seaview’s_ bow as the sub dove, frothing over the windows.

“Oh, wow,” Lynn whispered, her eyes widening as _Seaview_ continued to dive, giving her an excellent view of the ocean just beyond the nose. “This is unbelievable.”

She slowly walked forward, her eyes widening, fixed on the vista beyond. Walking right up to the viewports, she slowly reached out her right hand and placed the tips of her fingers on the Herculite, an expression of sheer awe on her face.

Lee and Chip grinned at each other and they walked forward, coming up behind Lynn. She turned when she felt their presence. “You guys really do need a soundtrack for this,” Lynn said. “I’m sure John Williams or Jerry Goldsmith would be happy to take the job. They would do her justice.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Lee said, grinning. Next to him, Chip smiled, his eyes never leaving Lynn’s face.

Lynn looked from one to the other, then sighed. “I’d love to stay up here all day, but you guys have work to do and I think I’d better get back to my dolphins. Thank you, Captain. Thank you for coming to get me, Commander.” Then she walked aft.

“I guess when you see it through someone else’s eyes, it becomes a little less commonplace,” Lee said, watching Lynn leave the control room.

Chip merely nodded and tapped the videotape against the palm of his hand, his expression thoughtful.

His attention drawn by Chip’s gesture, Lee frowned in question. “What’s that?”

Chip looked at him, belatedly realizing what he’d been doing, then he looked at the tape as if he’d forgotten what he held. “This?” he asked, placing the tape on the plot table. “Bugs Bunny cartoons for the wardroom – courtesy of Doctor Murtagh.”

“That was thoughtful,” Lee said.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

Lee didn’t miss the expression on Chip’s face, but decided to say nothing in the control room – it wasn’t the place for it. Later, though....

He tapped Chip’s right bicep with his open palm. “Come on,” he said. “The Admiral wants to see us in his cabin.”

“Oh?”

Lee nodded. “He wants us for a briefing on the new sonar. Mister Videtti, you have the conn.”

Nelson was engaged in a phone call with the Institute when they arrived in his cabin, so they took seats alongside the desk and tried to appear as unobtrusive as possible while they waited. Both had learned the true value of patience at Annapolis and throughout their naval careers – hurry up and wait applied in the Navy as much as it did in the Army – so it was relatively easy for them to sit and wait.

Nelson completed his call and acknowledged Lee and Chip with a nod. Passing a folder across the desk to Lee, he said, “Lee, Chip’s been involved with the installation of the new sonar system, so this briefing is more for your benefit than his. The new submarine recognition database has been installed. Accuracy is projected at ninety percent, but I believe it to be no more than fifty at this point – if that.

Lee briefly flipped through the folder, then dropped it into his lap and looked across the desk at Nelson. “If accuracy is so low, why bother testing it at all? It seems like a waste of system resources to me,” he said. “Why not wait until it’s farther along in development?”

“It’s been designed to be trainable – it can learn to recognize various subs on its own and assign them temporary identification numbers based on signatures already present in the database,” Nelson explained. “This shakedown is its first real test – I don’t think Sam Landemann has that much confidence in it yet himself, though he’d never admit it to anyone – **especially** to me.”

“What kind of shakedown are we talking about?” Lee asked.

“ _Seaview_ will launch dummy torpedoes transmitting recordings of the subs in the database – they’ve been programmed to head to specific coordinates after a pre-determined period of time, where they’ll be retrieved by the torpedo retrieval ship _Keyport_ , which is already on station. We’ll run this as if it were a standard training evolution regarding sonar contacts. You’ll be in the control room and Chip will be in the missile room operating the dummy torpedoes.” Nelson paused. “He’ll be the only one to know for certain which signatures are being broadcast.”

Crane gave Chip a sidelong glance. “Oh, I bet you just **love** that.”

Chip, slouching slightly in his chair, shot him a lazy grin in return.

“We’ll start the test midmorning tomorrow,” Nelson went on. “Chip, Riley, and Kowalski will be needed in the control room for each evolution, so you’ll have to assign new assistants to Doctor Murtagh, unless she can shift for herself.”

“I’ll see if she’ll need substitute help,” Chip said.

Nelson nodded and reached for his pen. Lee and Chip, recognizing a dismissal, rose and moved to the door.

“You seem insufferably proud of yourself,” Lee muttered.

“Me? Insufferable?” Chip asked in mock outrage. “I think I’ve just been insulted.”

Lee snorted. “The truth is never an insult.” Then he grinned and clapped Chip’s shoulder. “Come on, we have a submarine to run."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
>  Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
>  Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
>  Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
>  Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
>  CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
>  Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
>  Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
>  Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
>  Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
>  Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
>  Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
>  Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
>  Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
>  Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
>  Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
>  Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
>  Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
>  Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
>  Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
>  Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
>  Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
>  Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
>  Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
>  Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	6. Looks Like My Luck Is Running True to Form

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

“So whaddaya think, Doc?” Riley asked when Lynn arrived back in the tank room.

“There aren’t words for what I think, Rile,” Lynn said.

“You mean you’re speechless?” Riley asked, feigning shock “Wow. That’s a first.”

Lynn acknowledged that with a short laugh. “It sure is. Now, let’s get to work.”

They fed the dolphins their breakfast, and Lynn puttered around the compartment, organizing test equipment and dolphin supplies while Kowalski and Riley cleaned the tank and played with the dolphins. She found the case with her dive paraphernalia, and put her wetsuit and the rest of her wetskins aside for transfer to her cabin, then began sorting out the equipment they’d be using during the test.

She was so busy at her task that the morning passed quickly and midday soon arrived. “Do you want us to feed these guys their lunch now, Doc?” Kowalski asked.

Lynn looked at her watch. “They wouldn’t mind, Ski, but it’s still too early – they ate breakfast later than usual. I’ll do it after I eat lunch. Shouldn’t you guys be going to lunch now?”

“Yeah, but if you need us....”

“I’m good.” Lynn shook her head. “Go on and eat – I’ll see you in three hours.”

Kowalski nodded and Riley followed him out, tossing Lynn a wave as he passed through the hatch.

Lynn went back to her cabin to store her wetsuit and wetskins. She took a quick shower before leaving for the wardroom with a sense of rising anticipation. Arriving at the wardroom a few minutes before the first lunch seating, she poured a mug of coffee at the sideboard, then sat at the usual table.

She closed her eyes in pleasure as she sipped at the hot, strong coffee, blinking in confusion as she opened them and spotted the piano over the rim of her mug. She slowly placed the mug on the table, cocked her head, and stared. It was an old upright, and it had seen better days. A hand-me-down from someone, she supposed, and wondered how many aspiring Tchaikovskys had taken their first lessons upon it. She herself had learned on a piano very similar – though this one seemed to be missing the gouges where generations of German Shepherd puppies had teethed on it, and the dings where Donnie’s baby walker had run into it.

Lynn wondered when it had arrived. It hadn’t been there on her last cruise on _Seaview_ , or she certainly would have noticed it. It would have been very hard to miss, set up so close to the seating area near the big TV.

Lynn could feel her fingers itching to play it, and she wondered what it would sound like. She started tapping the fingers of her right hand on the table, then, realizing what she was doing, interlaced her fingers together and placed her hands in her lap. _Wait until you’re invited, Lynnie-girl_ , she cautioned herself. _If you’re not, then you can ask – politely._

Her musings were cut short as an unfamiliar officer sat down across from her. “Doctor, we haven’t been introduced,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m Lieutenant Bishop, senior navigator. We should really get to know each other better.”

Lynn took the proffered hand and took an instant dislike to the man. His grasp was weak and his hand was clammy, and she felt like she was holding a long-dead mackerel. His eyes were devoid of expression, as flat and lifeless as any shark’s. She released his hand and resisted the urge to wipe her palm on her jeans. She gave him a half-hearted smile, then studiously stirred her coffee, hoping he’d take the hint.

He didn’t. “Enjoying your stay?”

Lynn looked up, nodded briefly, then redirected her gaze back to her coffee.

“We’re pretty friendly around here,” Bishop said.

“Hmmm....” Lynn replied as noncommittally as possible, wishing someone else would come to sit at the table.

As if in answer to her prayers, Bobby O’Brien took his usual seat near the other end of the table. “Hey, Lynn, ready for one of Cookie’s belly-buster lunches?”

“No one invited you to sit here, O’Brien,” Bishop said before Lynn could respond, glaring at the younger man.

“I don’t need an invitation, Lieutenant,” O’Brien said calmly.

Taken aback, Lynn looked over at O’Brien, realizing there was a lot more going on here than a simple pass. She smiled at the younger officer, who seemed uneasy. “Oh, I’ll probably be able to eat about a third of what he puts on my plate, as usual.”

O’Brien relaxed slightly. “You can always give me your leftovers,” he joked.

“I think Commander Morton will have dibs on those, like last time,” Lynn said.

“Yeah, we learned a long time ago not to get between him and any plate of food,” Bobby told her. “We all wish we had his metabolism.”

“You’re interrupting my conversation, O’Brien,” Bishop snarled. “I hear you’re pretty good at what you do,” he said fatuously, turning back to Lynn.

“No, Lieutenant,” Lynn said with exaggerated patience, “I’m **very** good at what I do. And **you’re** interrupting **my** conversation. My interaction with you ended the second Lieutenant O’Brien sat down at this table.”

The man’s eyes hardened. “Oh, a wise-mouth.”

“You can take it that way if you want,” Lynn said. “But I prefer to think of it as honesty.”

Larry Baker, Ray Carter, and Ed Walkanski came to the table, Baker taking his usual seat on Lynn’s right, leaving the seat on her left open for Chip. “What’s up?” he asked, taking in the rising animosity.

“Nothing important,” Lynn said, challenging Bishop.

“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you, lady?”

By this point, Lynn had had it. “Yes, Lieutenant, I am. And I’m not interested in whatever crap you might be peddling, either. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to eat my lunch in peace. I can’t tell you to leave your own wardroom – but I **can** tell you to leave me alone. So kindly stick a cork in it.”

Bishop stared at her for a moment, then, seeing the stunned expressions on the faces of the other officers turn to looks of glee, he pushed back his chair and left. As he passed through the door, the rest of the officers in the wardroom rose and applauded.

“Smooth move,” Ed said. “Nice job, Lynn, thanks.”

“Who **was** that guy?” Lynn asked.

“Nobody you really want to know, Doc,” Cookie said, coming to the table and handing Lynn the photocopied lunch menu. "But you handled him just right."

“He’s creepy,” Lynn said uneasily.

“He’s rude and crude and boorish – and those are his good qualities,” Larry Baker said.

“Not your kind of guy, huh?” Ed Walkanski asked.

“Not exactly.” Lynn grimaced. “He’s too....”

“Not nice enough, huh?” Ed teased.

“Something like that.”

“And you like nice men,” O’Brien put in.

Lynn cocked an eyebrow at him. “You’ve been to the movies lately, I see.”

Chip came to the table, slipping into his seat at Lynn’s left. “Should I ask what happened?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Lynn and Bishop had a little disagreement,” Larry said calmly. “No big deal.”

Lynn sent a smile in his direction, silently blessing him for his tact.

“And Lynn won,” O’Brien said, beaming.

“Doesn’t anybody like this guy?” Lynn asked.

“Nope,” Ed put in.

Chip turned to Lynn. “What happened?” His manner made it clear that he wanted Lynn to answer, not one of _Seaview’s_ officers.

She looked at him uncertainly. “I…um….” She chewed her lower lip. “I told him I wasn’t in the mood for a conversation.”

Chip looked at her blankly. “ **You** told him you weren’t in the mood to **talk**?”

“She let him know she wasn’t –” Larry Baker started to say.

“He was coming on to her, for Pete’s sake,” Ray Carter said before Baker could finish.

“He did **what**?” Chip asked, raising his eyebrows and his voice.

“He came on to her,” O’Brien said before Lynn could answer.

“And she slapped him down!” Carter crowed.

“Politely,” Larry said with a warning glance at Carter.

Lynn hadn’t taken her gaze away from Chip, who was staring at her intently. “I wasn’t interested in playing his little game, Commander,” she said softly. “And I told him so. He didn’t like it, but that’s his problem.”

“And that’s what prompted the standing ovation?” Chip persisted.

Lynn looked down at the menu instead of answering.

“There was a little more to it, but nothing important. It’s about time someone put him in his place,” Ed said softly. “One of us couldn’t have done it.”

“Not the way Lynn did, anyway,” O’Brien put in. “Good job, Lynn. And thanks, he added _sotto voce_.

Lynn smiled at him hesitantly, then looked back at Chip. “It’s over. He won’t bother me again.”

“Doctor, if you’re having trouble with any of our personnel, I need to know about it,” Chip said, attempting to sound merely stern when he was, in fact, quite angry. Bishop knew better than to pull a stunt like that with any of _Seaview’s_ guests or any of the Institute personnel aboard.

“The problem is over,” Lynn repeated softly.

Chip looked at her for a long time. “I’ll take your word for it. But if it happens again….” he said, letting his words trail off meaningfully.

“You’ll be the first one to hear about it,” Lynn told him.

Chip held her gaze for a moment, then nodded and looked at the menu.

“At least we won’t have to put up with Bishop until dinner,” Ed said, grinning.

“He gives me indigestion,” Ray complained.

“I can see why,” Lynn said. “He’s awfully full of himself, isn’t he?” she asked Chip.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Chip commented.

“I’ve probably made myself an enemy for life,” Lynn muttered.

“He’s not worth worrying about,” Baker said.

“Oh, I’m not worried,” Lynn answered. “But I don’t like causing any problems.”

“Bishop has a way of causing his own problems,” Chip said softly.

Lee Crane walked up to the table, taking his seat at its head. “I heard you had a run-in with Bishop,” he said genially. “Sorry.”

“How did you find out?” Chip asked.

“A little bird told me,” Lee replied.

“It’s probably all over the boat by now,” Ed said, jerking his thumb over his shoulder toward the galley entry.

Lynn flushed and rested her head in her hands. “I knew I should have kept my mouth shut.”

“What did he want?” Crane asked.

“A date,” Ray Carter interjected.

Lynn looked up and met Crane’s eyes. “Maybe - I didn’t let the conversation get that far,” Lynn said quickly.

“But that’s where it was heading,” Larry said. “It’s his MO.”

“Your taste is, I’m sure, such that you would have turned him down,” Crane teased. “Right?”

Lynn snorted. “Definitely. I’ve made it a point not to date the guys I work with. Bishop, fortunately for me, qualifies.”

“Depending on your point of view,” Lee said, grinning.

“Who **do** you date?” Chip asked, the question slipping out of its own volition. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is,” he finished hurriedly.

Two seats down, Larry Baker choked on his coffee.

Lynn met Chip’s eyes dead on. “No one. At the moment, anyway.”

“Come on,” Lee prodded, smiling. “You mean there isn’t someone back in Santa Barbara taking cold showers until you get back?”

Now it was Chip who choked on his coffee. “Something wrong?” Lee asked innocently, but Chip’s only reply was a murderous glare.

Lynn’s eyes flickered from one to the other. There was a subtext to their exchange, but she had no idea of its meaning. So she decided to play dumb. “ ’Fraid not,” she said simply.

“His loss, Doctor,” Chip said simply, still glaring at Lee.

Cookie cleared his throat. “You boys – and lady, sorry, Doc, no offense – want lunch, or you wanna wait for dinner? I don’t have all day, y’know.”

Lee raised an eyebrow but ordered, and Lynn, Chip, and the rest followed his lead.

“You don’t like him, do you?” Lynn asked Chip when Cookie had left.

“Cookie?” Chip asked, deliberately misunderstanding her. “I like Cookie just fine. He can be a little cranky, but his food is worth it.”

Lynn narrowed her eyes at him. “I didn’t mean Cookie. I meant Lieutenant Bishop, and you know it. You don’t like him.”

“I didn’t say that,” Chip said pleasantly.

Lynn shook her head. “You didn’t have to. I can feel it.” Her voice dropped. “Non-verbal communication – between working with horses and the dolphins, I’ve gotten pretty good at it.”

“But I’m not a horse or a dolphin,” Chip pointed out with some amusement.

“Yeah, I can see that. But it works the same with humans.” She shrugged, then grinned. “For instance, have you noticed that everyone shrugs?”

Chip shook his head. “I hadn’t noticed, no.”

Lynn nodded. “Everybody shrugs. It’s a universal gesture. But beyond that, individuals have distinct mannerisms and little quirks that set them off from everyone else. But everybody shrugs.”

“Little quirks, huh?” Lee asked. “Like what?”

“Well, you get this little frown when you concentrate,” Lynn said, pointing her index finger at him. “I stick my tongue out and hold my breath.” She laughed. “My brothers always remind me to breathe whenever I ride a dressage test.”

“And you chew your lower lip, too,” Chip said, ignoring Lee’s low snort of amusement.

“Yes, I do. That’s one for you, Commander,” Lynn acknowledged, her eyes sparkling.

“And what do I do?” Chip asked, not even trying to hide his amusement.

“Well…. You purse your lips and squinge your eyes. You know, like this,” she said, demonstrating.

“I do not,” Chip protested.

“She’s right, you do,” Lee said.

Chip turned to him, frowning. “I do?”

“All the time,” Lee assured him, grinning.

“And you lean,” Lynn went on

“I what?”

“You lean,” Lynn repeated. “On anything. That’s when you’re not standing with your hands in your back pockets. And you chew on your thumb,” she said, pointing to the knuckle of her own right thumb.

“You’re very good at this, Lynn,” Lee said. “You certainly have my executive officer pegged.”

“I’m a scientist, Lee,” Lynn said evenly. “The Admiral pays me to be observant.”

Lee lifted an eyebrow, but made no comment. Inwardly, though, he was grinning from ear to ear. _The Admiral pays you to observe your dolphins, not my XO,_ he said silently, chortling with silent glee at this turn of events. _But I have to hand it to you, Lynn – that was a very nice save_.

Chip looked at her out of the corner of one blue eye, taking in her little cat’s grin. “You’re pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”

Baker choked on his coffee once more, and Chip looked at him strangely. Baker waved him off and shook his head, nodding at Lynn.

“Bishop used the exact same words to me before,” Lynn explained.

“And are you going to put **me** in **my** place?” Chip asked, eyes sparkling.

Lynn shook her head. “No. It’s not offensive when you say it.”

Beside her, Baker choked on his coffee yet again, and Lynn turned to him solicitously. “Geez, Larry, take it easy.” She turned back to Chip. “Where was this little creep when I was aboard last time?”

“He was on leave,” Ed told her. “He had to show up at his divorce hearing.”

“Yeah,” O’Brien chortled. “His third wife divorced him.”

Ed leaned across the table toward Lynn. “None of us can figure out how he got one woman to marry him, let alone three.”

Lynn shook her head wryly. “Looks like my luck is running true to form. Last time it was a great white, this time it’s a lesser bozo.”

Crane raised an eyebrow but said nothing as two crewmen on mess specialist duty brought full trays to the table.

No one spoke until they’d all been served their meals. “We have three days before we’re scheduled to pick up Doctor Danson,” Crane said, “so you and your dolphins can relax for a while.”

“Oh,” Lynn replied.”Okay.”

“Something wrong?” Chip asked.

Lynn shook her head. “Oh, no, there’s absolutely nothing wrong with spending an extra couple of days on _Seaview._ I just thought we’d be picking him up right away. I’ll revise my schedule. And I brought extra fish, just in case."”

“We have a few systems tests to conduct on the way up,” Lee explained, “but I’m sure we can find something to keep you occupied.” He looked at Chip out of the corner of his eye, seeing his exec studiously looking at his plate.

“Oh, I won’t have any problems. I can find plenty to keep me busy,” she said, cutting into her open-faced roast turkey sandwich smothered in gravy.

Lee sent Chip a speaking glance over Lynn’s head, and Chip glared at him. “What do you know about this Doctor Danson, Doctor?” he asked to change the subject.

Lynn frowned. “Nothing, really. I’ve never even heard of him, and I thought I knew everyone doing serious behavioral work with dolphins.”

“The Osborne Institute is a pretty classified place,” Chip pointed out.

Lynn shook her head. “But that shouldn’t matter. You still hear names mentioned, or read papers in journals. We’re pretty classified at NIMR, and I still publish a paper every year, maybe two a year. It’s a waste to do research and not release the results.”

“Have you had to keep any of your own work off the radar, so to speak?” Lee asked.

Lynn looked at him for a long moment, then chewed on her lip before giving him a smile. “If I told you, Captain, I’d have to kill you.” Her eyes danced. “If the Admiral didn’t kill me first.”

Chip looked down at his plate to hide his grin, and Lee made a “that’s one for you” motion in the air before him.

“What’s tonight’s movie?” Lynn asked.

Chip gave her a secretive smile. “It’s a surprise.”

“A surprise, huh? Well, don’t forget the cartoons.”

“Cartoons?” Carter asked.

“Doctor Murtagh was kind enough to bring in a cassette of Bugs Bunny cartoons to precede the movie,” Chip explained.

“Was that the only tape you brought?” O’Brien asked.

“Oh, no, Bobby. I didn’t forget you.” She leaned forward and grinned evilly down the table in his direction. “You’re in for a rough time.”

“Promises, promises,” O’Brien scoffed.

“Maybe – but I never break any I make.”

The stewards cleared the tables, simultaneously depositing dessert – chocolate sundaes topped with whipped cream, sprinkles and a cherry – in front of each while refilling the coffee carafes.

Lynn looked down at her sundae dish, then pushed it in front of Chip. “Here – enjoy.”

He looked at her, aware of the mischievous glint in Lee’s eyes. “You’re passing up a chocolate sundae?”

“I’m too stuffed from lunch.” She gave him a little cat’s grin. “But you should have room. You always do. You **all** do,” she said to the table at large. “You guys have bigger appetites than my brothers.”

“We’re a passel o’ hard-workin’ men, ma’am,” Ray Carter said in a broad - and very fake - Southern accent.

“You’re all slaves to your stomachs, the lot of you,” Lynn shook her head. “You’re worse than my dolphins. I hope Cookie never goes on strike.”

“Ssshhh!” Ed said, reaching across the table to cover her mouth with his fingertips. “Don’t give him any ideas.” He dropped his hand at a fierce glare from Chip.

“Ideas?” Lynn asked, unaware of Chip’s expression.

“Cookie is…touchy,” Lee explained. “He thinks we don’t appreciate his cooking.”

“How can you appreciate it when you eat it so fast you can’t even taste it?” Lynn asked.

“Did Cookie tell you to say that?” Lee asked.

“No,” Lynn said, looking puzzled. “Why?”

“It sounds suspiciously like something he says every so often,” Chip said. “And I quote – ‘You guys shovel that in so fast you look like pigs sloppin’ at the trough. I don’t think you even taste it.’ Unquote.” Chip mimicked Cookie’s Bronx accent perfectly.

Lynn gave a low laugh. “No, Commander, he didn’t coach me. And why do I have the feeling you hear him say that a lot?”

Chip rolled his eyes and dug into Lynn’s dessert.

“Too much,” Lee said, and refilled his and Lynn’s coffee cups.

“Thanks,” she said. “Well, you really should make the poor man feel appreciated. He’s a marvelous cook.”

“Marvelously cantankerous,” Bobby O’Brien said. “He likes feeling put-upon.”

“But you put up with it,” Lynn said. “I guess the food is worth the aggravation.”

“Bingo, Doctor,” Chip said, pushing away the empty ice cream dish. “Well worth it.”

“Will you have time to work with us this afternoon?” Lynn asked as a mess specialist cleared away the dessert dishes and the junior officers left, leaving her alone at the table with Chip and Lee.

“How about right after lunch?” Chip suggested.

Lynn regarded him for a moment. “I’m not taking you away from anything, am I?”

Chip shook his head. “I’m off duty until fifteen hundred for office hours.” At her frown, he smiled. “It won’t be the first time I’ve worked when I’m supposed to be off duty and it won’t be the last.”

She looked at him uncertainly. “You don’t mind?”

“I wouldn’t have volunteered if I minded,” he pointed out gently.

“No, I suppose not.” Lynn rose. “Excuse me. I need to change. I’ll see you in the tank room.”

Chip waited until she’d left before turning to Lee. “What the hell did you ask her **that** for?”

“Ask her what?” Lee questioned.

“You know what. The cold shower crack.” Chip glared, brows lowering. “It embarrassed her.”

Lee raised an eyebrow. “It didn’t seem to bother her at all.”

Chip snorted. “She wouldn’t let on even if it had.”

“You know her that well, do you?” Lee challenged.

“Don’t change the subject,” Chip warned. “You were out of line, and you know it.”

Lee threw him a measuring glance. “Awfully protective, aren’t you?”

“What?” Chip couldn’t believe his ears.

“Of Lynn,” Lee went on. “You charged right to her defense when you thought I stepped over the line with that comment. Very chivalrous of you, XO.”

“She doesn’t need protecting, Lee,” Chip pointed out. “She does all right for herself.”

“Mmmm-hmm.”

Chip glared at him, but didn’t say a word.

“You’ve got one hell of an obstacle ahead of you,” Crane mused.

“Come again?”

“With Lynn,” Lee went on. “You heard her – she said she doesn’t date any of the guys she works with.” He grinned. “But there’s always a first time. I’m sure your innate charm will just trample any reservations she might have.”‘

“I’d like to trample **you** ,” Chip growled, refusing to rise to the bait.

Lee ignored that. “I don’t see why you just don’t ask her out.”

Chip favored him with a more intense glare. “You don’t see a lot of things.”

“I see a lot more than you think I do.” And he left.

Shaking his head, Chip watched him go. Then he headed for the dive locker to change.

** *** **

Lee arrived in the tank compartment to find it empty of human presence. He walked over to the tank, where the dolphins rose up and eyed him momentarily before greeting him loudly.

“And hello to you, too,” he said, feeling silly. _What the hell, he thought. If it’s good enough for Chip...._ “Enjoying your stay?”

One of the dolphins rose up even higher, chattering and moving backwards through the water on its tail. Then it flopped backwards, producing a loud, large splash as it hit the surface of the water.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Lee muttered, leaping back out of harm’s way.

“Don’t drench the Captain,” came an amused voice from behind him. “He might put us off the boat and make us swim home. That wouldn’t be a problem for you three, but I might get a little tired.”

“Not a chance,” Lee said, turning to see Lynn, dressed in a green and silver wetskin, walking toward him and wearing a wide smile. “You’re some of the easiest passengers we’ve ever carried.”

“And I hope we continue to be.” She chewed her lip. “I don’t like causing problems, and I’m really sorry about what happened at lunch.”

“With Bishop? He causes his own problems,” Lee said dismissively. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’ll try not to.”

There was no time like the present to apologize for his own rudeness, Lee thought. “Lynn, I’d like to apologize for my crack at lunch.”

“Your crack—? Oh, you mean the one about the cold showers?” She smiled.

Lee nodded. “That one.”

“That’s okay, Captain—.”

“Lee, remember?” He smiled, echoing the invitation.

“Lee,” she acknowledged. “I thought it was kind of funny. Don’t worry about it.”

“I didn’t embarrass you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. _So much for Chip’s theory_ , he thought, mentally filing that bit away for later use.

“I have brothers, remember?” She shook her head. “I don’t embarrass easily.”

Lee raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I guess not.”

“But thank you for the gesture.”

“We like to stay on good terms with our guests,” Lee said.

“Does that apply to Lieutenant Bishop, too?” She shook her head and held up one hand, blushing. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I thought you didn’t embarrass easily,” Lee teased.

“I don’t.”

“That looks suspiciously like a blush to me,” Lee pointed out with a genial smile.

Lynn rolled her eyes in sheepish acknowledgement. “Correction – I don’t embarrass easily unless I embarrass myself. Then all bets are off."

“We’ll see what we can do to prevent that. See you at dinner.” And Lee left the tank room, new ideas of deviling Chip running through his head.

** *** **

Dressed in his brand-new yellow wetsuit, Chip stepped over the coaming of the hatch and into the tank room. He stopped in his tracks, staring at Lynn, who was dressed in an emerald green and silver wetskin. Wetskin? More like second skin! It clung to her, leaving very little to the imagination as she moved. And the hell of it was, she didn’t even seem to realize how good she looked in it. To her, he knew, it was just another piece of equipment.

Springsteen was on the tape player, singing _You Can Look But You’d Better Not Touch_. Chip shook his head. _Good advice_ , he told himself.

Lynn had her back to him as he entered, dancing and clapping in time to the music as the dolphins cavorted in the tank before her. She seemed to be enjoying herself – at least, it sounded that way, from her delighted laughter.

It was easy to see why she was laughing – she was dancing with the dolphins. Two of the three had risen out of the water in front of her and were working their tails furiously to stay out of the water. The third had broken away to swim around the tank, punctuating his swim with leaps out of the water.

“I didn’t know dolphins were such good dance partners,” Chip said, coming up behind her.

Startled by his voice, she spun around but recovered quickly. “These dolphins are.” Behind her, the two dolphins sank down into the water as one, but popped back up again, raising their heads above the deck to watch, as the third swam over to join them.

Chip grinned. “It sure beats working.” He cleared his throat. “Did Lee – did Captain Crane come to see you?”

Lynn cocked her head to one side to look up at him. “You mean to apologize?”

He nodded, feeling uncomfortable.

“Yes, he did, though it wasn’t necessary.”

“His crack was what was unnecessary, Doctor,” Chip told her flatly. “It was personal and prying.”

“I have brothers, Commander, and male cousins – they pushed me past reacting to ‘personal and prying’ a long time ago,” she said. Then her eyes widened. “Wait a minute. It was **your** idea that he should apologize, wasn’t it?”

Chip nodded. “Teasing or not, he stepped over the line.”

“Thank you for the sentiment, but it really wasn’t necessary. I’m okay with it.” The color of his wetsuit finally registered. “Oh, no. It’s **yellow**.”

“Yes, it’s yellow,” Chip agreed pleasantly. “And yes, I’ll change the subject.”

“Huh? Oh, no, that’s not what I meant. It’s just – you’re a walking advertisement for a shark snack.”

“I’m a what?” Chip asked.

“The black one you wore last time looked a lot better, and it was a lot safer.”

“Oh?” he asked, registering the first part of her comment and filing it away for later thought. “I’m sorry. It was too worn out to wear anymore. I had to get a new one.”

“In **yellow**?” Her expression was pained. “Really?”

Chip spread his hands. “That was what the dive shop we contract with had in stock in my size.”

“That’s a shame. I’d give them hell for it - they should know better. Yellow isn’t your color. Actually, it isn’t anyone’s color. We call it Yum-Yum Yellow – it attracts sharks because of its high contrast. That’s why the Navy stopped using it for life vests. You should have gone for a special order. Royal blue, maybe.”

“I’ll keep that in mind the next time I need a wetsuit.” He sat down on an equipment case, resting his forearms on his thighs and letting his hands dangle. “The Captain’s comment really didn’t bother you?”

“Nope,” Lynn said, shaking her head. “Honest. And I told him the truth – I don’t date that much. I don’t have enough time. The dolphins, my horses, my music – everything else just gets shoved off to the side.”

Chip looked at her dubiously. “I’ve never known that to stop anyone before.”

She grinned sheepishly, and gave a little sigh. “No, I guess not. The truth is, I haven’t met all that many guys I’d want to date, let alone get even halfway serious with.”

A raised eyebrow was Chip’s only reaction, so Lynn went on. “No, really. I’ve never dated anyone I work with because that’s a sure way to find trouble. Most of the male marine biologists I’ve met are married, and those that aren’t tend to be more interested in talking about their work than what I’m working on – and I’m not the type to hang fatuously on every word they spout. And a lot of the guys on the horse show circuit are gay – they’re really nice guys, but that’s a dead end romantically.”

“Yeah.” Chip gave her a wry grin. “I’d say so.”

“I don’t want a one-note relationship. I want someone who shares most of my interests, not just one. I just haven’t been lucky enough to find him yet.”

“Maybe he’ll find you.”

“Maybe,” Lynn said, shrugging. “Stranger things have happened.”

The tape player continued to dutifully churn out music; now, Springsteen was singing _I’ve Got a Crush on You_ , and their eyes met and locked to that very awkward accompaniment. Both were startled by the electricity that passed between them.

Lynn was the first to look away. To break the tension, she walked to her dive bag, pulling out her regulator. “I have the miniaturized sensor for your regulator. I’ve already installed one in mine.” She turned back and found that Chip had followed her. She stepped back a pace, unnerved by his unexpected proximity, but she quickly composed herself and handed him the mouthpiece. “It was easier than I thought it would be, and if you bring me your regulator, I can install it for you. Or you can do it yourself, if you prefer. It’s really easy – it only takes a minute.” _You’re babbling,_ she told herself. _You sound like an idiot_.

She chanced a quick look at him. He was looking at the regulator, not at her, but he had the strangest expression on his face, like....

 _Nah_ , she told herself firmly. _He wouldn’t be interested in you. You aren’t his type_. She shook her head as if to clear it. _Keep reminding yourself of that, girl._

“It looks simple enough,” Chip said, touching the strip that circled the mouthpiece.

“It is – just remove the backing and press it on. The glue is non-toxic and it doesn’t even taste bad.”

“Yes, that’s an important consideration,” Chip said with a smile, handing the regulator back to her.

“See this wire?” She pointed to a thin wire that hung down from the sensor strip. “It runs along the hose and leads to a small battery pack and transmitter that attaches to the air tank. If it’s disconnected or broken, the alarm goes off.”

“Looks simple.”

“Elegantly simple.” She took it back from him and stored it in her dive bag. “Ready to get started?”

“If you are.” Chip watched as she stepped off the edge of the deck and into the deep end of the tank, going completely underwater before surfacing a short distance away, surrounded by the dolphins. She took a moment to stroke each one, murmuring quietly to them. Chip watched her and the dolphins for a moment, again struck by the love she had for them and the devotion they held for her, then jumped into the tank himself.

The dolphins swam over to inspect him, then back to Lynn. “Doctor, you spend so much time in the water, I’d almost have to compare you to a mermaid.”

Lynn raised an eyebrow and felt herself blushing, to her consternation. _No, you don’t embarrass easily, do you?_ she asked herself. “Nothing quite so elegant, I’m afraid. Water rat would be a better description.”

“Mermaid is a lot closer to the truth,” he said.

Lynn regarded him curiously. “Commander, are you flirting with me?”

Chip countered with another question. “What would you do if I were?”

The tip of her tongue darted out to moisten her lips before she spoke. “Honestly? I don’t know.”

“Fair enough.” Sensing her discomfort, he changed the subject. “As corny as this may sound, the three of them look like old salts by now.”

“They settled down a little more quickly than they did last time. They know what to expect this time, so they’re not as upset as they were last time.” Beside her, Sammy chattered in what seemed like agreement.

Chip raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, um….”

“Sammy,” Lynn supplied.

“Yes. Thank you, Sammy.”

The dolphin chirped what seemed to be an acknowledgement, then dove, coming up beside Chip and nudging him. Chip reached out and stroked the big male, who moved closer and emitted what sounded like a sigh.

“You’re stuck,” Lynn said. “He likes that too much.”

The dolphin butted Chip’s hand and gave what sounded like a whine.

“Please pet me,” Lynn translated, and Chip complied. He kept stroking the dolphin until Lynn clapped her hands and the dolphin shot away toward her. “Don’t be greedy, Sammy. Work now, snuggles later.”

The dolphin chattered what seemed to be agreement and looked at her attentively, waiting for her first command.

To refresh Chip’s memory, they briefly ran through the commands used to direct the dolphins underwater. Chip was surprised at how many of them he remembered.

Lynn swam to the side of the tank behind her, pushing half out of the tank and stretching to grab a ball that lay on the deck near the tank. “Playtime.” She tossed it to Chip. “They’ll get to know you better and it will help them bond to you – they’ll be more inclined to work for you, too. Besides, you know what they say about all work and no play.”

“It makes Sammy a dull dolphin?”

Lynn smiled across the length of the tank at him. “Something like that.” She jerked her chin at the ball. “Go ahead, throw it.”

“At who?”

“At anyone.”

“Okay.” Chip threw it right back at her.

“Chicken.” Lynn tossed the ball to Sammy, who batted it right back at her with his beak. “It’s easy.” She tossed it back at Chip.

He caught it, bounced it in his hand a few times, then threw it to Maxie. She swam forward to meet it, popped out of the water, connected with the ball, and batted it in Lynn’s direction.

Lynn jumped out of the water slightly to snag the ball before it flew out of the tank. “And sometimes they throw you a curve.” She tossed it back to Chip.

“They’re good at that,” he said dryly.

“And they get better at it every day, believe me.”

They played with the dolphins for a while, until Chip looked at his watch and frowned.

“Don’t tell me – duty calls, huh?”

Chip’s eyes shot to her. Was that disappointment he heard in her voice? “Even when I wish it didn’t,” he said, then boosted himself out of the tank and turned to help Lynn out, steadying her when her dive boot slipped in a puddle. “Easy,” he cautioned, keeping a grip on her elbow until they reached a drier part of the deck.

Surprised at his gesture, Lynn told herself to just accept his actions and not attach any undue significance to them. “Thanks,” she acknowledged belatedly.

“I can’t have you getting hurt on _Seaview_.” He gave her a wry smile. “Our safety record isn’t the best.”

“Yeah, I’d heard that.”

“I bet you have. The Institute is rife with rumors about what goes on here.”

“And is the truth stranger than the fiction?”

Chip studied her for a long moment before answering. “Usually.”

“Don’t worry,” Lynn assured him. “I won’t ask for details.”

“I didn’t think you would.” _I’d like to tell you_ , _though_ , he said to himself. Perhaps one day he could. He looked at his watch. “I’ll meet you at your cabin for dinner.”

“Eighteen hundred?”

Chip nodded. “Try to work up an appetite.”

She laughed. “I’ll do my best.”

He winked at her and left the compartment.

** *** **

Chip took a quick shower to rinse off the residue of the holding tank’s salt water, then dressed in a fresh uniform and began his afternoon rounds. He inspected the special red-nosed torpedo dummies they would be using the following morning, finding them well-secured in their racks, then moved on to the special targeting and tracking computer that controlled them. He booted it, logged on to _Seaview’s_ powerful main computer and called up the launch program. He played with it for a few minutes, running through the commands in order to re-familiarize himself with it, then shut it down.

With that finished, he circulated through the rest of the boat. He stopped in sickbay to talk to Doctor Jamieson about the day’s sick call, chatted with the men at various duty stations, questioning others who were in the process of qualifying at new duty stations. Then he returned to Officers’ Country and entered the small ship’s office between his and Lee’s cabins to hold office hours. While he waited to see if any crewmen stopped by, he started his daily report, wrote up the next day’s Plan of the Day and looked over the reports of several minor disciplinary problems. The chiefs had handled the problems, and Chip was glad he hadn’t had to get involved. He knew he’d have to get involved where Bishop was concerned, though – the navigator couldn’t be allowed to make advances to any of the scientists they hosted. After this cruise was over, he’d call Bishop in for a little talk and make that perfectly clear. Visiting scientists were off limits, and NIMR’s own scientists were even more so.

 _Especially Lynn Murtagh,_ his subconscious chimed in.

Chip closed his eyes and let out the breath he hadn’t even known he’d been holding. Lee was right– he **was** feeling a bit protective of her. It was an odd feeling, and it was one he couldn’t indulge in at the moment. Bishop had been wrong to come on to her while on board _Seaview_ , and Chip couldn’t condone that behavior. But neither could he act the same way.

He’d dated a few women who worked at the Institute – far fewer than the Institute’s female workforce would have liked, in fact – but had never slept with any of them. And none of them had ever been on Seaview for any reason, except Katie Leydon – and he’d nipped that particular relationship in the bud after three very casual dates. It had been a relief to break off with her. She was a shark, and he hated feeling like prey. Angie was right about one thing – Katie Leydon and Lynn Murtagh were diametric opposites.

He looked at his watch. It was seventeen-forty-five – time to pick up Lynn for dinner. Chip printed out several copies of the Plan of the Day and dropped them off at the chiefs’ quarters, then reversed course and made his way to Lynn’s guest cabin.

She answered the door almost immediately after he knocked. She was dressed in navy chinos and a crisp white shirt under a burgundy varsity sweater with a burgundy letter _F_ outlined in white on the left side. “Punctual, as usual,” Chip said.

“I don’t like to keep anyone waiting,” Lynn said, coming out into the passageway and closing the door behind her. She pushed the sleeves of her cardigan higher up on her arms.

He gestured to her to precede him down the corridor. “Is that your brother’s sweater?”

Her eyes flashed. “It’s **my** sweater.”

“Oops. Sorry,” Chip said, searching for a conciliatory gesture. “What sport?”

“Equestrian team.”

“Oh?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t know they had intercollegiate dressage competitions.”

Lynn shook her head. “They didn’t – and I’m pretty sure they still don’t. I rode hunters and jumpers then.” She smiled. “The Intercollegiate Horse Shows Association started at Fairleigh Dickinson when I was a sophomore. I was one of the first students on the team. I was the team captain my senior year.”

“Impressive.” He nodded toward her sleeves. “Do you always push your sleeves up?”

“Sure do. Do you always wear a tie?”

“No, not always.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lynn shot back. “The only time I’ve seen you without one is when you’ve been in a wetsuit.”

“I haven’t been able to find one that was made from neoprene,” he said dryly, gesturing for her to enter the wardroom ahead of him.

Lynn rolled her eyes and strode through the door, heading for their table.

They took their usual places and chatted throughout dinner. Lynn listened with one ear to the shop talk that whirled around the table, but her attention was centered on the delicious stuffed veal in marsala sauce on her plate. She didn’t push her plate away until it was empty, the last drop of sauce sopped up by delicious crusty bread, sighing as she leaned back in her chair.

“Boy, that was good.”

Chip looked at the empty plate in front of her, then turned to Lynn in surprise. “I don’t believe it. You finished your dinner?”

Puzzled, Lynn frowned at him. “Yeah. It was really good.” She smiled up at the mess specialist who removed the dirty dishes. “Tell Cookie it was great.”

“I will.” The mess specialist moved off to the galley door.

“I may not be able to get over the shock of seeing that empty plate,” Lee teased.

“I don’t think Cookie will, either,” Chip said. “And here he comes now.” He jerked his head toward the galley pass-through.

“Hey, Doc, did you eat all that yourself or did somebody else eat what you left?” Cookie asked, looking pointedly at Chip, who merely leaned back in his chair and grinned at him.

“I ate it all myself,” Lynn said, somehow keeping a straight face. “Honest.”

“You sure?”

“I saw it and I still don’t believe it. She ate every morsel,” Lee confirmed. “I’m surprised she didn’t eat the plate, too.”

“It was great, Cookie,” Lynn assured him. “I could live on Italian food.”

“Yeah?” Cookie asked, eyes brightening. “Okay, Doc.” He turned on his heel and left, grinning.

“Now you’ve done it,” Chip said.

“Now I’ve done what?” Lynn asked.

“You said you liked something,” Lee told her.

Chip shook his head. “No – she said she could live on something. That’s worse.”

“Much worse,” Ray agreed.

“Worse than that,” Ed put in.

“Hmmm. Lots worse,” Bobby agreed, nodding sagely.

Lynn looked from one man to the other. “Would someone please tell me why it’s worse and what it’s worse than?”

Chip looked at Lee, who shrugged and jerked his head in Chip’s direction. “All right,” Chip said. “You're driving Cookie crazy.”

“Why?”

“You don’t finish your food,” Lee answered.

“Lee, I **ride** horses – I don’t **eat** like them,” Lynn pointed out.

Lee grinned. “No, I can see that. Nevertheless, Cookie is used to people who do.”

“And you’re not making him happy,” Chip put in.

“Until now,” Lee corrected.

“Until now,” Chip acknowledged. “You said, and I quote, ‘I could live on Italian food,’ unquote.”

“Yeah, so?” Lynn asked, puzzled.

“So, that’s all we’ll be eating until you’re gone,” Chip said patiently.

“Why?”

“Because you’re a challenge, and some people like challenges,” Lee said, looking pointedly at Chip.

Chip ignored him. “Now he has a way to keep you eating.”

Cookie came over to the table. “Apple pie for dessert sirs, or autodog. Hey, Doc, want some autodog? We've for chocolate and vanilla. Maybe some pie ala mode?”

“Don’t push your luck, Cookie,” Chip said. “She ate dinner – dessert would be too much to ask for.”

Lynn smiled up at the irascible chief cook. “I’m afraid Commander Morton is right, Cookie. As tempting as a dish of soft-serve ice cream would be, I’m really full. But dinner was outstanding.”

“I’ll get you to eat a full meal on this boat if it’s the last thing I do,” Cookie promised, but he wore an ear-to-ear grin as he sauntered away back to the galley.

Chip handed Lieutenant Joe Lawson the video cassette Lynn had given him earlier. “What’s this, XO?” _Seaview’s_ submersibles officer asked.

Chip looked at Lynn. “Tell him.”

“Cartoons. I hope you like Bugs Bunny.”

Lawson’s dark face creased into a smile, showing a crescent of even white teeth. “Are you kidding?” he asked, and his deep, melodious voice seemed to come from his toes. “He’s my hero.”

Lynn grinned. “Mine too.”

Lawson’s grin widened. “I’ll go cue this up now. Thanks.” He walked to the VCR and inserted the tape while the others left the table and moved to the seats near the TV.

The cartoons were a big hit, with _What’s Opera, Doc?_ being the most popular.

“Great idea, Lynn,” Lee said.

Chip leaned forward, looking past Lynn to his captain. “Just think of what you’ve been missing all these years,” he said.

“If you don’t mind commercials, I have more at home I can copy off for you,” Lynn offered.

“We’ll definitely take you up on that,” Lee said and Chip nodded.

The cartoons ended and Lawson jumped up to change tapes, returning to his seat with a wide grin. “You’re gonna love this,” he promised.

Lynn’s eyes widened and her mouth dropped as the opening crawl of _The Empire Strikes Back_ marched up the screen. “How did you get this?” she whispered.

Chip grinned. “The Admiral has his ways – and a very wide reach.”

“You can say that again.”

“Have you seen it yet?”

Lynn nodded. “Three times.”

“Three?” Chip asked. “It just opened. You didn’t waste any time, did you?”

Lynn shrugged. “My nieces and nephew are big _Star Wars_ fans.”

“And I suppose you just went along to keep them company,” Chip teased.

“Who do you think took them to see the first movie to begin with?” Lynn shot back with a grin.

Lynn was as drawn into the movie as she had been the first three times – she preferred the bold, brash Han Solo to the callow, earnest Luke Skywalker and hoped the smuggler would eventually be the one to end up with the haughty Princess Leia when the series ended. And, as she had done during the first three viewings, she started to tear up during the carbon-freeze scene, sniffling toward the end.

Chip heard and looked in her direction, catching her in the act of wiping away a tear. He pulled out his handkerchief and handed it to her. “It’s clean,” he whispered.

“Thanks,” she whispered back, hoping no one else had noticed.

“Don’t mention it.” When she started to hand it back to him, he shook his head. “Hang onto it,” he whispered, “in case you need it again.”

Lynn nodded her thanks and went back to watching the movie and soon found herself again caught up in George Lucas’s space opera.

As the movie ended. Lynn leaned her head against the couch back during the closing credits, closing her eyes to experience the music more fully.

Chip looked at her and found her smiling. Then she sighed. “Are you enjoying the music?” he asked in a low voice.

Startled, she opened her eyes. “I have the album of the score at home, too,” she whispered. “I told you – see if John Williams will compose a soundtrack for _Seaview_.”

“Well, if you have connections,” Lee teased, overhearing their conversation, “feel free to make the suggestion.”

“Connections?” Lynn asked. “Whoever got this movie has more connections than I do.”

“You can thank my multi-talented XO for that,” Lee said.

“And I’m not giving away my secrets,” Chip said. “I may need to use them in the future.”

“Well, however you did it, my compliments. This is such a wonderful movie, and I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to wait three years for the next one.”

“I don’t think encasing you in Carbonite for the duration is an option, either,” Chip said. “Your dolphins might get their noses out of joint if we tried.”

She ducked her head and smiled, aware of just how easy it was to relax here. “You guys all make it so easy.”

“Easy?” Lee asked. “In what way?”

“You make me feel like I belong here. Thank you for that. I realize it can’t be easy having an intruder messing up your routine.”

“Oh, we’ve had far worse on board,” Lee said.

“I’ll try to stay as insignificant as possible, then,” Lynn said.

O’Brien deposited a tape player onto the table. “Ready for a game?” he called.

Lynn grinned at Chip and rose, pulled a tape out of the pocket of her cardigan and waved it at O’Brien as she walked to the table. “Better believe it.”

“You think you’re gonna win?” O’Brien scoffed. “Keep dreaming, Doc.”

Lynn just smiled serenely. “Who goes first?

“Ladies first, of course,” Chip said smoothly. “Right, Bobby?”

O’Brien shrugged. “Whatever you say, XO. It won’t make a difference, anyway.”

“Ah, the confidence of the young.” Chip turned to Lynn. “Ready for him?

“I am,” Lynn said, nodding. “The question is, is he ready for me?”

“Only time will tell.” He grinned. “The floor is yours, Doctor.”

Lynn took the tape player O’Brien pushed toward her and slipped the tape inside. She listened through the headphones for a moment, then disconnected them and pressed the play button, looking at O’Brien expectantly.

O’Brien looked flabbergasted. “I never heard that one,” he admitted.

“No?” Lynn asked, hiding a grin. It’s _Never in My Life_ , by Mountain.”

“Now that’s what I call an appropriate title,” Chip said dryly.

“Care to try another?” Lynn asked.

“Sure. That had to be a fluke,” O’Brien said, seeming disconcerted.

“A fluke? We’ll see, Bobby, we’ll see,” Lynn said. “Try this one.” And a lilting flute came out of the speakers.

Again Bobby was stymied. “No clue,” he muttered.

“ _Bouree’'_? Jethro Tull? No?” Lynn asked, then shrugged. “One more time?”

“Yeah,” O’Brien said, with a disgruntled expression.

This time it was a flute and a snare drum followed by a male voice singing and a trumpet. Lynn let it go on for several bars before Bobby shook his head. “ _Sometimes in Winter_ – Blood, Sweat, and Tears.” Lynn looked at him in amazement. “Geez, Bobby – the very first line of the lyrics gave it to you!”

“Where did you dig these songs up from?” O’Brien complained. “I never heard any of them.”

“I keep forgetting that you’re a few years younger than I am, Bobby,” Lynn teased.

“It **does** put him at a disadvantage, doesn’t it?” Ed asked, dodging the wadded-up dinner napkin O’Brien threw at him.

“Can you do better?” O’Brien challenged.

“No, but I don’t claim to be the expert here like you do,” Ed pointed out.

“One more,” O’Brien demanded, and Lynn nodded – a little too eagerly, Chip thought.

The sound that came out of the speaker was a church bell pealing the hour, followed by an electric guitar, then cymbals. O’Brien gave Lynn a look of disbelief, then shook his head. “Go ahead,” he said in disgust. “Gloat."

“ _Hell’s Bells_ , AC/DC,” Lynn said with a delighted grin.

“Metal,” O’Brien said, shaking his head. “She listens to **metal**!”

“You’ve met your match, roomie,” Larry said. “Lynn proved that last time.”

“Met his match, hell,” Mark Videtti said. “He’s been dethroned.”

“Well, now it’s **my** turn,” O’Brien stated. “We’ll see if she gets **these**.” He donned the headphones and listened, then disconnected the headphones and hit the play button.

Lynn hit the stop button before the third note spilled out of the speakers, then waved her hand at O’Brien. “Too easy. _Great Balls of Fire_ , Jerry Lee Lewis.” She reached out and hit play, smirking at O’Brien.

“Uh…yeah,” O’Brien said, hitting stop and pulling the tape player toward him. Again he donned the headphones, fast forwarded the tape to the next song, then stopped it. “We’re starting in the middle this time,” he said.

“Okay.”

The lyric “Because I know she’ll always be the only girl for me,” spilled from the speakers, and Lynn hit stop. “ _Don’t Bother Me_ , The Beatles.” She hit play, and the rest of the lyric confirmed her statement.

O’Brien gave her a disgruntled glare, and she blinked at him innocently. “Bobby, a tip. Don’t waste your time – you can’t play a Beatles song that will stump me.”

“I **could** take that as a challenge,” O’Brien said.

“I don’t think it would be too wise, Bobby,” Chip said dryly.

O’Brien pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Probably not. But I don’t give up that easily.”

“Maybe you should,” Chip said softly.

“XO, I’m Irish and Italian – I don’t quit,” O’Brien asserted. “Here. Try this.”

After two chords of acoustic guitar, Lynn stopped the tape. “ _It’s Hard to Be a Saint in the City_ , Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.” She shook her head. “Remember what I said about the Beatles? It goes quadruple for him – I’m from Jersey, remember?”

O’Brien silently glared at her, then laughed despite himself, and moved on to the next song.

Four notes of solo bass guitar later, Lynn hit stop. “ _Badge_. Cream. Great song.” She ducked her head as the rest of the officers laughed at the consternation and frustration on O’Brien’s face.

“Come on, Bobby – I’ll give you another chance,” Lynn urged. “Hit me with your best shot. Winner take all.”

O’Brien narrowed his eyes, considering. “Okay,” he agreed. “One more – and I’ll start it in the middle again.”

Again he completed the ritual of fast-forwarding, listening, and removing the headphones. “Ready?” he asked, and at Lynn’s nod, he disconnected the headphones and hit play.

The spark that appeared in Lynn’s eyes as she listened to the music, sans lyrics, spilling from the speakers warned Chip – she was up to something. He watched her as she listened to the piano bridge of the song, her eyes lighting up with glee.

Chip thought he’d come to know Lynn pretty well over the short time they’d worked together, as well as from their impromptu meetings on and off the Institute property. He thought he was prepared for just about anything she might do. But nothing prepared him for what happened next.

Judging from his wide grin, O’Brien obviously thought he’d stymied her. He’d just opened his mouth to speak when the bridge ended and the lyrics began. And that’s when Lynn started singing.

O’Brien, sitting directly across from her, jumped from startlement, nearly toppling his chair. In the chair next to him, Ray Carter reacted quickly, steadying the chair before Bobby could go over backwards.

Chip suppressed a grin at the reactions of the other officers – Bobby O’Brien was still clearly startled, Larry Baker was grinning widely, as were Ray Carter and Ed Walkanski. Chris Hodges was laughing outright and even the laconic Sparks was chuckling.

Chip recognized the song as Cass Elliot’s _Dream a Little Dream of Me_ , and reflected that Lynn’s strong, slightly smoky voice was well-suited to it. And the self-satisfied expression on her face as she looked away from O’Brien to meet Chip’s gaze clearly said, _Ain’t I a stinker?_

“I’d say that point goes to Lynn,” Larry said when the song ended. “Just like the rest.”

“The whole game goes to her, after that,” Chip said. “Even if it hadn’t been winner take all.”

“I don’t think she even needs to give the title on that one, does she?” Lee asked.

“No, I don’t think so,” Chip replied. “Right, Bobby?”

“I’ve heard you sing before,” O’Brien asserted, narrowing his eyes at her.

“Sure – I sing to the dolphins all the time,” Lynn asserted.

“No,” he said firmly. “Not just that.” He snapped his fingers and his eyes widened. “Wait! You’re in that band, aren’t you? The one that plays at Ciasulli’s!”

Lynn ducked her head and bit her lips to hide her smile. But the expression in her eyes when she lifted them to meet his was cool and calm, with just a glint of triumph. “Guilty as charged, Lieutenant.”

“You play the piano, too. You’re a ringer,” O’Brien accused.

“A ringer implies forethought, Bobby. I doubt the Admiral had beating you at _Name that Tune_ in mind when he invited Doctor Murtagh and her dolphins aboard,” Chip pointed out dryly.

“It’s just serendipity, O’Brien,” Ed Walkanski said.

“Serendipity, hell,” O’Brien complained. “It gives her an unfair advantage.”

“Winning isn’t everything, Bobby,” Chip told him.

“Maybe not, but losing isn’t anything,” O’Brien replied. His disgruntlement faded as his mind worked. “So I’ve been faked out by a master, huh? I’ll just have to see what else I can come up with.”

“Why don’t I think the end result will be any different no matter **what** songs you come up with?” Crane asked dryly.

“We’ll see, Skipper, we’ll see. She can’t know every song that’s ever been written.”

“Wanna bet?” Chip muttered _sotto voce_.

“That’s not a bet I’m taking, Bobby,” Crane said.

“And on that note, I think I should say good night,” Lynn said, standing and pushing her chair beneath the table.

Chip stood. “I’ll see you to your cabin,” he said, and together they left the wardroom. “So you play in a band, huh? No wonder you beat O’Brien the way you do.”

“It’s been fun.”

“For us, too. So…how long have you been playing in this band?”

“Oh, God, we formed our first band back in high school – we played school dances, CYOs, swim clubs, skating rinks, the teen clubs that were so big back home in Jersey back then. We even won a few Battles of the Bands. We were unusual in that we had a piano player – me – who was also the girl singer.” She smiled up at him. 

“Who did you play with?”

“Jack and Kevin on guitars, my cousin Joey on bass, and a friend of ours on drums."

“I’m guessing you still play with Jack and Kevin,” Chip mused.

“Good guess, Commander. And my sister-in-law on the organ, and a bass player, drummer, and sax player. Eileen and I play synthesizers, too.”

Chip gave a low whistle. “Pretty big band.”

Lynn nodded. “It gives us versatility.”

“What do you play?” he asked, then stopped and held up his hand. “Wait – let me guess. Springsteen.”

Lynn smiled. “Yup – and Bob Seger, and Boston, and Dan Fogelberg, and The Beatles, Linda Ronstadt, some Stones, a little Motown. Some Jerry Lee Lewis, Loggins and Messina, Buddy Holly, even Meat Loaf – like I said, we’re versatile.”

“It sounds like it,” Chip said as they resumed walking. “Maybe I’ll have to come and listen to this band one night.”

“You should,” Lynn agreed. “We’re pretty good – you wouldn’t be sorry.”

“Doctor, of that I have no doubt.”

They stopped at her cabin, and Chip pulled out his keys and reached past her to open the door before Lynn could get her keys out of her pocket. “See you at breakfast.”

“Night,” Lynn said, and watched him walk back to the wardroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes:
> 
> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
>  Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
>  Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
>  Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
>  Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
>  CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
>  Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
>  Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
>  Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
>  Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
>  Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
>  Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
>  Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
>  Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
>  Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
>  Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
>  Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
>  Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
>  Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
>  Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
>  Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
>  Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
>  Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
>  Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
>  Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	7. I Knew You Were More Than Just a Pretty Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

Lynn wasn’t present at breakfast the next morning. Somehow, Chip managed to restrain himself from turning to look at the wardroom door every few minutes.

“We seem to be missing someone.” Lee said after the other officers left for their duties, pitching his voice so only Chip could hear.

“Oh?” Chip asked in what he hoped was an offhand manner.

“Don’t tell me you hadn’t noticed,” Lee scoffed.

Chip looked at him and shrugged. “I noticed. Are you worried?”

“Like you said yesterday, she’s a big girl.”

“Hmmm.”

“But why don’t you check up on her after you finish your breakfast anyway?” Lee suggested.

Chip shrugged. “All right. She’ll probably be wondering why Riley and Kowalski haven’t shown up.” He tossed down the last of his coffee and left the wardroom.

Lee smiled and shook his head. He hadn’t expected Chip to refuse outright the request to check on Lynn, but he hadn’t expected him to agree so readily, either. The fact that he hadn’t put up even a token argument was telling.

He finished his own coffee and departed for the control room, grinning to himself.

** *** **

When Chip arrived in the tank room, Lynn was sitting cross-legged on the deck, scribbling furiously in a notebook. She was wearing what looked like an old-fashioned long-sleeved undershirt, which seemed to be about one size too large for her. Its dark green, the color of a pine forest, contrasted with the pale blue of her faded jeans. The stereo was on; he recognized the song as _Eight Days a Week,_ by the Beatles.

He walked around to stand in front of her, slipping his hands into his hip pockets as he stopped. “Good morning,” he said.

She looked up and smiled, and Chip suddenly realized that her eyes lit up with pleasure when they met his.

“Good morning, yourself.” She clipped the pen to the notebook and pushed herself to her feet, then took her glasses off and stuck them atop her head.

“I had a feeling I’d find you here,” he said. “You missed breakfast.”

Lynn blinked at him in surprise, then shot a glance at her black watch. “Oops. I guess I lost track of time.”

“I would say you did,” Chip agreed. “How long have you been here?”

Lynn shrugged. “Since around five-hundred, I guess. I had an idea that needed work.”

“And?”

“And it still needs work,” she admitted with a grimace.

“Wouldn’t you work better on a full stomach?”

“Maybe,” she allowed. “I’ll hit the wardroom after I feed the dolphins.”

Where she found that boundless energy, Chip didn’t know. But here she was, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, even taking into account the late night they’d all had the night before.

“You don’t look any the worse for wear after last night,” he commented.

Lynn smiled up at him. “Victory has a way of rejuvenating even the most tired warrior, Commander.”

“Apparently so – in your case, at least. Listen – Riley and Kowalski won’t be available to help you this morning, Doctor,” Chip told her. “They’re needed for a training exercise.”

“Oh. Well, okay – their regular duties have to come first, and I’m grateful they can help me at all. Thanks for letting me know.”

“They won’t be available tomorrow morning, either. If that causes a problem, let me know. I can assign you other assistants.”

Lynn shook her head. “No, that wouldn’t be a good idea – the dolphins are getting used to the way Kowalski and Riley work with them. But I can handle this end. It’ll keep me busy.”

“You’re sure?”

“No problem,” she assured him. “The dolphins aren’t any trouble, and it isn’t anything I haven’t done hundreds of times before. And I can think while I vacuum the tank – it’s mindless work.”

Chip nodded. “All right. But if you need help – ask,” he ordered.

“I will,” Lynn assured him. “Believe me, I’m not out to kill myself.”

Chip studied her for a moment, then nodded shortly and left the tank room.

On his way back to the control room, be checked in with the chiefs in the Goat Locker, then stopped in the galley to alert Cookie that Doctor Murtagh would be in for a late breakfast.

“Did you find her?” Lee asked when Chip arrived in the control room.

“First place I looked,” Chip said, taking up his slide rule and pencil.

“Which was?”

“The tank compartment. She’s been there since oh-five-hundred, too,” he said absently as he studied the chart spread out on the plot table.

Crane nodded. “That figures. Very dedicated, our Doctor Murtagh.”

Chip’s only reply was a noncommittal grunt.

Crane grinned. “You seem to be taking the return of our Doctor Murtagh in stride,” Crane said.

Chip regarded him with what he hoped was a nonchalant expression. “Lee, what do you want me to say? That I’m madly in love with her? I’m not, you know.”

Lee nodded. “I know. But it seems odd that you spend so much of your time with her.”

“I’m her liaison, remember?” Chip asked with exaggerated patience.

Crane planted a hand on the plot table and fixed Chip with a stare. “I meant off-duty time, and you know it.” He shook his head. “I’m confused.”

“About what?”

“I’ve never had to push you like this before. You’re usually moving at flank speed by this point.”

Chip turned and faced him straight on, not even bothering to try to pretend he didn’t know what Lee was talking about. “Lee, I like her. I like talking to her. She’s funny, and she always has something interesting to say. But that’s it – don’t go reading something into it that isn’t there.”

“I wonder what Lynn would have to say about it,” Lee mused.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Chip challenged.

“I might.”

Chip opened his mouth to reply, but Sharkey interrupted them with the information that _Keyport_ was on station, waiting for the testing to begin. Chip turned back to plotting the course for the upcoming sonar test while Lee spoke with Sharkey.

“So I guess from our earlier conversation, you haven’t asked her out yet,” Crane said when Sharkey had gone on his way.

Chip looked at Lee in exasperation. “Didn’t we have this conversation a while ago?” he asked. “Like less than five minutes ago?”

“I seem to remember something similar,” Lee said genially.

Chip took a deep, calming breath. “What did I say the last time?” he asked patiently.

“That she wasn’t your type.”

“That hasn’t changed,” Chip asserted.

“You seem to spend a lot of your time with someone who isn’t your type.”

Chip sighed tiredly. “I. Like. Talking. To. Her.”

“So it’s nothing more than that?” Crane pressed.

“No. And I doubt there ever will be.”

“You doubt it? At least you’re leaving yourself an out,” Lee said pleasantly.

“I’m not leaving myself anything,” Chip hissed, aware that the crewmen nearby were listening to every word. “There’s nothing there.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Crane said, and walked away.

Chip busied himself at the plot table, now and then looking up to scan the control room, taking in the activity at the various duty stations. The background noise of muted voices, occasionally peppered with the hiss of compressed air as O’Brien ordered adjustments to _Seaview’s_ trim, was as comfortable as an old pair of running shoes.

Still, Chip felt a vague unease. Lee’s teasing had hit a raw nerve. Despite his determination not to date anyone he worked with as closely as he’d been working with Lynn, he was tempted to ask her out – sorely tempted. He liked her – a lot – and had enjoyed the limited time they’d spent together off the boat – not that either an impromptu lunch at the bulkhead or the cup of coffee they’d had at Swensen’s could be considered a date by any stretch of the imagination. Both had been coworkers sharing a meal, nothing more. But he had a feeling that going out with her on a real date would be a very interesting – and enjoyable – experience.

His train of thought came as a surprise to him, and he turned away from the plot table, staring sightlessly out the huge windows in the nose. He hadn’t lied to Lee – Lynn Murtagh really wasn’t what he thought of as his type. She was the antithesis of the trendy, fashionable, and ultra-sophisticated woman he’d always been attracted to and consistently attracted to himself. April and Gina made her look like a schoolgirl, and Roseanne – hell, Roseanne made Farrah Fawcett look dowdy. But Doctor Murtagh dressed to work – not to impress. If she had something to say, she came out and said it, instead of blandly agreeing with everything he said. Her brain seemed to constantly be on overdrive, and thinking about it, she did compare favorably to the women he was currently seeing – to or any of the women he had been involved with in the past, for that matter.

“Chip?”

He turned to see Nelson regarding him curiously, and quickly composed his expression into one of attentiveness. “Admiral?”

“You looked about a million miles away.”

Chip smiled, doing his best to keep from looking guilty. “I was thinking about the sonar test, sir,” he lied, crossing his fingers behind his back. “Just going over the procedure in my head.”

“Ah,” Nelson acknowledged. “Where’s Lee?”

Chip looked aft and saw Lee talking to Chief Nolan, who was standing behind Kowalski at the sonar station. Pointing aft, he said, “With Chief Nolan, sir.”

“Hmmm. Carry on,” Nelson said, moving aft.

Chip relaxed, feeling like he’d dodged a bullet.

** *** **

Lee continued his circuit of the control room, occasionally looking back at Chip as he spoke to the men on duty. He knew from the expression on his friend’s face that he was thinking – about their conversation, and probably about Lynn as well. Good. It was necessary to shake Chip up from time to time – he had become entirely too complacent of late.

Lee stopped to speak to Chief Nolan, who was watching Kowalski run a diagnostic on his sonar station prior to the test, then looked up to see Nelson join Chip at the plot table.

Chip pointed aft in Lee’s direction and Nelson nodded, moving to join Lee. Lee walked to meet Nelson halfway.

“Are we ready for the test?” Nelson asked.

“We’re scheduled to start in ten minutes, Admiral,” Lee told him.

Chip joined them, clipboard in hand. “She’s steady at two-thirds, one-five-oh feet, steady on course two-seven-zero, Captain.” He handed Lee the clipboard.

“Good,” Crane said, giving the figures a cursory glance. Whatever Chip reported was certainly accurate. He initialed the form and tucked the clipboard under his arm. “I’ll take the conn, Chip,” Lee said. “I think you have an appointment in the missile room.”

Chip inclined his head in acknowledgement. “Aye, sir,” he said, and headed aft.

Nelson smiled at Lee and walked toward the plot table. He gave the chart a cursory glance to check their position, then turned to survey the control room. Men were busy at their stations, and Ray Carter stood behind Kowalski and Riley at the sonar stations, looking a bit anxious. Beside him stood Chief Nolan, looking far more relaxed.

Chip’s voice came over the 1MC. “I’m in the missile room, Admiral. We’re ready to proceed with the test.”

“Okay, Chip, it’s all yours,” Nelson said.

“Aye, sir.”

** *** **

At the console in the missile room, Chip donned a headset, then activated the controls, selecting the first dummy. Equipped with the signatures of six different submarines, it would broadcast these at his command. Chip and only Chip would know exactly which signatures were broadcasting at any given time, and would confirm or deny the contacts as they were made in the control room.

“Chief, launch dummy number one,” Chip ordered.

“Aye, sir,” Sharkey responded, launching the first torpedo. “Dummy number one away.”

Chip waited until his console told him that the dummy was fifteen hundred yards away, then instructed it to begin broadcasting.

“So far, so good, Chief,” Chip told Sharkey, who had come over from the fire-control panel to watch. He pointed to the screen, where the identity of the sub was displayed.

“ _Indianapolis_ , sir?”

Chip nodded. “She’s our newest _Los_ _Angeles_ -class attack boat, Chief, and the only one to be commissioned this year.” He rocked back onto his heels and crossed his arms. “Let’s see how long our new toy takes to ID this one.”

It didn’t take long. Kowalski’s voice came over the 1MC a moment later. “ _L­os_ _Angeles_ -class attack boat, _USS_ _Indianapolis_ , SSN-697.”

Chip picked up the mike. “On the nose, Kowalski. How long?”

“Ten seconds.”

Chip nodded to himself. “Not bad. That’s about what the manual said the initial contact should take. Ready for another one?”

“Ready whenever you are, Mister Morton.”

“I’ll try to make it a little tougher,” Chip said, and bracketed the mike. He called up the list of available signatures, this time choosing a Soviet boat of the _Delta_ class.

Kowalski’s reply was a bit quicker this time. “It’s a _Delta_ , Mister Morton, the one we call _Delta_ Six.”

“Good,” Chip acknowledged, and instructed the dummy to begin transmission of another signature.

“ _Victor_ ,” Kowalski replied, even more quickly than before. “It’s the one we call _Victor_ Seven.”

“Not bad, Kowalski,” Chip acknowledged. “Not bad at all.”

“Yeah, this is really pretty easy.”

Chip grinned at Sharkey. “I’ll see what I can do to make it a little tougher.”

Chip looked at the readout of available signatures remaining in the dummy’s inventory. One in particular appealed to his sense of the absurd. His fingers flew over the keyboard, instructing the dummy to begin transmitting the signature.

** *** **

In the control room, Kowalski did a double take as the signature registered on his screen.

Behind him, Nelson and sonar officer Ray Carter chuckled softly, and Chief Nolan laughed outright.

Crane heard Nolan’s laugh and strolled over from the chart table. “Something wrong?” he asked, leaning over Kowalski’s shoulder.

“Skipper, it’s us!” Kowalski said. “It’s _Seaview’s_ signature.” He pointed to the ID in the window – _Seaview_ , SSRN-1.

Crane grinned at Nelson. “The XO is having a little fun down there, I see. Acknowledge the contact, Kowalski.”

“Aye-aye, Skipper.” He picked up the mike. “SSRN _Seaview_ , Mister Morton.”

“Nice job, Kowalski, and fast.” Chip sent another dummy out into the sea, and instructed it to begin broadcasting a signal. Kowalski sent back the identification in mere seconds.

“Admiral, ready for another run-through?”

“I think we can cut this short, Chip. It went better than I thought it would. Try to make tomorrow’s test a little more difficult, though, all right?”

Down in the missile room, Chip looked over at Sharkey and smiled. “Aye, Admiral. I’ll see what I can do.”

Lookin’ good, Mister Morton,” Sharkey said.

“So far, Chief. Have a detail load dummies four, five and six into the even-numbered tubes for tomorrow morning’s trials,” Chip ordered.

“Aye, sir,” Sharkey acknowledged briskly. “All right, you lunkheads, get these dummies into the tubes!” The missile room duty watch hurried to obey.

** *** **

After a quick breakfast of a bacon and egg sandwich and a fruit cup, Lynn took a carafe of coffee back to the tank room and spent the morning playing catch with the dolphins, working on hand signals and getting them to focus on her. She reinforced certain procedures she felt they were weak on, interspersing lessons with play.

The morning sped past, but around lunchtime she began to feel the lack of food in her stomach, so she headed to her cabin for a quick rinse-off and a change of clothing, then on to the wardroom. When she arrived, Cookie was intently supervising the mess specialist setting the tables.

“Cookie, got a minute?” she asked hesitantly.

He turned, smiling broadly when he recognized her. “Sure, Doc. Whatcha want?”

“Do you have any tomatoes? The real kind, not those hard plastic things they try to pass off in supermarkets.”

Cookie beckoned to her to follow him. Lynn followed him into the main galley, which served the wardroom and the forward crew’s mess, where he opened a large stainless-steel walk-in produce cooler. “How’re these, Doc?” He pointed to a stainless steel bowl on the middle shelf.

Lynn’s eyes widened. “Are they what I **think** they are?”

“Yup – honest-to-God Jersey beefsteaks. Beauties, aren’t they?” he asked proudly.

Lynn’s eyes lit up. “Cookie, I’d kill for a tomato sandwich made with one of those.”

The mess chief grinned at her reaction. “One tomato sandwich comin’ up, Doc. White toast, lotsa mayo? Real mayo, that is, not that weird stuff they call salad dressing. I won’t have that junk on my boat,” he growled.

“Is there any **other** way to make one?” Lynn asked .

Cookie shook his head. “Not in my book.”

She moved to leave, then turned back. “Hey, Cookie, let me in on the secret. Where do you get these?”

“No secret, Doc. Mister Morton has ’em shipped in from Jersey before every cruise. It costs the earth, but he says if ya love tomatoes, y’might as well eat the real thing.”

Lynn nodded in agreement. “He’s a wise man, Cookie.”

“Ya want one sandwich or two, Doc?”

Lynn licked her lips. “Depends – what else are you serving?”

“Cream of broccoli soup, and fries or potato salad.”

“One sandwich, some extra mayo on the side, a bowl of soup instead of a cup, and plenty of potato salad,” Lynn said, ticking the items off on the fingers of her left hand. “And pickles?”

“Kosher dills or bread-and butter pickles sound good to ya?”

“Bread-and-butter, please.”

“Ya got it.” Cookie grinned. “It’s nice ta know I make something that tickles yer palate, Doc.”

Lynn smiled. “Cookie, **everything** you make tickles my palate. You just give me too much of it.”

The chief mess specialist blushed. “G’wan. Go sit down.”

Lynn grinned and started to leave, then turned back. “Hey – you’re from the Bronx, aren’t you?”

“Born and raised,” Cookie said, his hands on his hips. “Howd’ja know?”

“I recognized your accent,” Lynn told him. “I spent a lot of my formative years up there.”

Cookie nodded sagely. “At the Zoo, huh? I can see where you’d like that place.”

“Well….” Lynn shrugged. “In a manner of speaking – but I call it the Cathedral of Baseball – it’s at 161st Street and River Avenue.”

“Yankee fan, huh?” Cookie smiled and nodded. “Ya got good taste, Doc.”

Lynn nodded. “From the womb. I still have my season ticket package, too.”

“From all the way out here?” Cookie asked. “Long way to go for nine innings of ball.”

Lynn laughed. “I go home for a week’s vacation around Opening Day every year, and two weeks around Old Timers’ Day – and the rest of the time, I let my mother’s clients use them, or my cousins when they’re on leave, or I donate them to local charities.”

“That’s good of ya to do.” He narrowed his eyes. “Ever get to the World Series?”

Lynn nodded. “All the time, when I was a kid. I was at all of the games in Seventy-seven and Seventy-eight, in New York and Los Angeles. Most of my family was there, too. We screamed our lungs raw.”

Cookie gave her a mock scowl. “Doc, don’t make me hate you for bein’ at Reggie’s three-homer game.”

Lynn’s eyes lit up, remembering. “Man, that was some game, Cookie. I thought the Stadium was gonna shake itself apart.” She paused. “Listen – if you ever go home on leave during a homestand, you can use my tickets. My mother has extras, too, if you need them.”

Cookie’s dark brown eyes lit up. “You mean it?”

“Sure.”

“There’d be five of us – me, the missus and our three kids.” He paused. “Maybe my brother – he still lives in the Bronx.”

Lynn shook her head. “Not a problem – my family owns twenty seats all together.”

“ **Twenty**?” Cookie asked, his eyes widening in surprise.

Lynn shrugged. “I’ve got a big family, and we’re all fans -- and my mother lets her employees use the seats, too. Just let me know when you need them, and I’ll make sure you get them.”

“Gotcha, Doc. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” She gave him a smile, then turned on her heel and left him with a broad smile on his face.

The wardroom had begun to fill while she’d been in the galley, and Chip, Lee, and several of the other officers were already seated. Wearing an ear-to-ear grin, she sat down in the vacant chair next to Chip and patted his right hand. “I knew you were more than just a pretty face.”

Conversation around the table screeched to a dead halt at that. She didn’t seem to notice, though, as she filled her water glass from the pitcher in the middle of the table, and the talk around the table slowly sputtered to life again as the officers present began to pick up the threads of their dropped conversations.

Chip was aware of Lee’s barely-suppressed laugh. “What does that mean, exactly?” he asked, forcing nonchalance.

“You’ll see.” Lynn refused to say any more on the subject, instead engaging Larry Baker in a spirited discussion of the relative merits of the Red Sox and Yankee pitching staffs.

Chip frowned, watching her out of the corner of his eye, all the while refusing to meet Lee’s speculative gaze, which darted avidly between Chip and Lynn.

The mystery was solved when lunch arrived, Lynn’s meal delivered by Cookie himself. “Howzzat, Doc?”

Lynn lifted the top piece of golden toast, then grinned. “Looks perfect, Cookie.” She took a bite, closing her eyes in ecstasy. “It **is** perfect. I think I died and went to heaven.”

“Over what?” Larry asked.

“A tomato sandwich,” Chip answered for her, shaking his head in mock disgust. “I should have known you’d have tomato juice in your veins instead of blood.”

Lynn grinned. “You are what you are, Commander.” She licked tomato juice and mayonnaise from her lips. “Jersey beefsteaks, too – God’s tomato.”

“A tomato sandwich?” Ed asked. “That’s it? Just tomato?”

Lynn nodded enthusiastically. “It’s a fine New Jersey tradition. Our tomatoes are so perfect, they don’t need anything else.” She wiped her mouth. “Except mayo, of course. A lot of mayo.”

Ed nodded, but he didn’t look convinced. Lynn just went back to eating her sandwich.

** *** **

After lunch, Chip checked in on two work details before heading for the dive locker to change to his wetsuit. On the way there, though, he had to pass the tank room, and some sixth sense made him enter instead of passing by. He heard the music as soon as he opened the hatch. Stepping inside, he looked around for Lynn, stopping short as he caught sight of her. Head back, eyes closed, she was leaning against the work table, obviously caught up in the music. He recognized it as _The Nutcracker_ , by Tchaikovsky, one of his mother’s favorites. And, to judge from the expression on Doctor Murtagh’s face, one of her favorites, too.

He walked forward, and noticed tears running down her cheeks. He quickened his pace. “Are you all right?” he asked in alarm.

Lynn looked up and shook her head, blinking furiously, quickly wiping the tears away. She crossed to the tape player and silenced it before speaking. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s the music.”

“The music?”

“Yeah. This ballet has always been able to evoke a – rather strong emotional response,” she said dryly. “I get carried away sometimes.”

“I can see that,” Chip said gently, handing her his handkerchief. “This one’s clean, too.

She took it and dabbed at her eyes. “Thanks.”

“It’s a little early for The Nutcracker, isn’t it?”

“You can’t just save it for Christmas. This music is....” Lynn sniffled. “Sorry.” She gave him a watery smile.

“Your music means a lot to you, doesn’t it?” Chip asked softly.

She sniffled and nodded. “Oh, yeah – so much of music is its connection to emotion – if you don’t feel it, it isn’t doing its job.”

“It looks like the Nutcracker has done its job as far as you’re concerned.”

Lynn studied him for a moment before speaking “You know that song _Do you Believe in Magic_ , by the Lovin’ Spoonful?” At his nod, she continued. “That describes it for me. Music is in here,” she pointed to her heart, “and if I didn’t have it, I don’t know what I’d be. I certainly wouldn’t be me.”

“No, I don’t think you would be.” His voice was soft, speculative.

Encouraged by his attitude, she continued. “I need music. It’s got to be a part of me. I don’t think I could survive without it.” Her voice dropped. “I need it as much as I need food or air.” She abruptly stopped speaking, as if realizing that she’d told him more about herself than she’d originally intended. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Chip asked. He’d been enjoying watching her, reveling in the animation she displayed as she talked about her music.

“I told you – I get a little carried away sometimes.” She pursed her lips and looked away. “Sorry.”

“I’ve noticed,” he said with a smile. “But I didn’t mind.”

“No?”

“I’m glad you feel that you can trust me with that part of yourself.”

“Yeah. Me too,” she said softly.

The dolphins, apparently feeling that the two humans should be paying attention to them and not to each other, popped their heads over the tank rim and began chattering.

“Another country heard from,” Chip said dryly.

“Jealous things that they are,” Lynn said fondly.

“I don’t think they like to share you,” Chip said. He was starting to agree with them.

“No,” Lynn answered. “They want me all to themselves.” She gave them a signal and they swam off, circling the pool, alternating the lead. One leapt out of the water, somersaulting twice before cleaving the surface in a clean dive. “Showoff,” Lynn muttered, though the affection in her tone belied the word.

“Sammy?” Chip asked.

Lynn looked at him in surprise. “Yeah. How’d you know?”

“It figures he’d be the leader.”

Lynn rose and walked to the tank, with Chip right behind. She looked down at the dolphins, then back up at Chip. “Poetry in motion, no?”

“That somehow seems an inadequate description, Doctor.”

She smiled at his understanding. “I get jealous sometimes. I mean, I’m a pretty decent swimmer, but boy, I wish I could do half of what they do. Beauty, grace...and an intelligence we’re only beginning to fathom.”

Chip looked at his watch. “We’d better get to work. I’ll go change into my wetsuit.”

“Yeah, okay. They’re in a good mood – we should get a good session in. Oh, bring your regulator – I’ll install the sensor.”

“I’ll be right back.”

Chip strode to the hatch knowing that her gaze followed him every step of the way.

** *** **

Dressed in this wetsuit and carrying his regulator, Chip returned to the tank room to find three agitated dolphins kicking up a racket, but no Doctor Murtagh. Two were swimming around the tank in a frenzied manner, causing the water to slosh out onto the deck, while the third would surface, give a loud squeal, then dive again.

He looked around the large compartment, behind the freezers, the slop sink and worktable, the computer equipment, and boxes of gear and supplies, but didn’t see her. He looked toward the tank, where the dolphins continued their racket. One – the thought it was Maxie – squealed at him, her vocalizations ranging from ear-splitting to sounds the human ear couldn’t register, but could certainly feel. Behind her, the two males had dropped down to the bottom of the tank, circling. An icy dart of fear struck his midsection and he hurried to the side of the tank.

He reached it just in time to see Doctor Murtagh surface in the middle of the three dolphins, who surrounded her, chattering and squealing loudly. To Chip’s eyes, they looked for all the world like they were scolding her.

She pushed her mask up, but before she could say anything to them, she spotted Chip, and her look of surprise when she saw him quickly morphed to an expression of pleasure. She swam to the side, pulled her mask off and rested her crossed forearms on the deck. “Hello again.”

“What was that all about?” Chip asked, taking the mask from her.

“The noise?” Lynn asked as she pushed herself up onto the deck. “Pretty loud, huh?”

“What were you doing to them?” Chip asked. “They sounded pretty upset.”

“They were. They don’t like it when I sit on the bottom and hold my breath.”

Chip sat on the deck beside her. “Do I want to ask why you’re doing that?”

“I’m working on extending the time I can hold my breath underwater,” Lynn told him. “It drives them bonkers.”

“And you do this intentionally?” Chip asked, surprised.

“No,” Lynn said. “It’s a side effect.” She gave him a sheepish grin. “I like to see how long I can stay under on one lungful of air. My brothers and I used to do it when we were kids.”

“And you always won?”

“I had to,” Lynn told him. “My honor was at stake.” She pushed herself out of the tank and sat next to him. “And it’s proven to be a handy little talent in my career. I can stay under longer and interact with the dolphins more without needing to wear a tank.”

“When you’re not driving them crazy,” Chip pointed out.

“That’s also a form of interaction – and it shows behavioral traits,” Lynn pointed out. “All that anecdotal evidence of dolphins saving drowning humans? They’re doing basically the same thing in a laboratory situation. They don’t have a problem with me swimming underwater with them – it’s when they think I’ve been under too long that they freak out.”

“How long can you stay under?”

“About three-and-a-half minutes.”

“Why not use a snorkel?”

“That’s fine in shallow open water, and you need one if you’re swimming with humpbacks. But it’s a pain in the tanks at NIMR.”

The water sparkled on her lashes like diamonds. Chip pulled himself up short, schooling his expression to Doctor Murtagh wouldn’t notice. Where had that particular observation come from? And why hadn’t he noticed it before?

He wasn’t sure if he’d like the answer. He started fidgeting with the regulator.

The movement caught Lynn’s attention, and she looked at what he held in his hands. “Oh. You brought me your regulator. Good.” She pushed herself up from the deck. “Let’s get it set up.”

Chip rose with her and followed her to the equipment cases.

Lynn reached into one of the smaller cases, coming up with a plastic box. She placed it on the worktable, opening it to reveal a wide but thin metal sensor encased inside a thin plastic strip, which was connected to a long, thin silicone-coated lead wire that ran to a small, rectangular silver box. Thin strips of plastic were attached to the wire at several points along its length.

Chip pointed to the silver box. “That’s the battery pack?”

Lynn nodded. “It attaches to your airtank and powers the sensor and alarm. If the wire is broken for any reason, the pack emits an ultrasonic signal that will call the dolphins.”

“Like the pager’s panic button.”

“Exactly.” Lynn nodded. “It’s the same frequency. Biting down on the sensor strip does the same thing.”

“What are these?” Chip asked. “They look like miniature cable ties.”

“That’s just what they are,” Lynn said. “But unlike a cable tie, they open easily.”

“Fabricating must have had a lot of fun coming up with those,” Chip said dryly.

“They didn’t complain **too** much,” Lynn said. “But they were necessary. They secure the wire to your airhose to keep it from getting fouled on anything and possibly broken.”

“That would end the test in a hurry.”

“Yeah, it sure would,” Lynn said ruefully. “Leaving the wire loose is **not** a smart move.”

Chip’s eyes flashed with humor. “That tone of voice tells me it happened already, didn’t it?”

Lynn cleared her throat. “Yes, it did – and it was pretty embarrassing, too. But the silver lining is that we know the whole megilla works. Most of the time, anyway. There were a few glitches in the early stages in the lab.”

“Such as?”

Lynn looked up at the overhead, remembering. “The sensor went off with normal mouth pressure on the regulator, then didn’t go off at all no matter how hard you bit down. We finally found a happy medium, but it took a while.”

“A bit of a bumpy ride?” Chip asked.

“You could say that,” Lynn said dryly. “We drove Fabricating nuts.”

“ **We**?” Chip repeated with an upraised eyebrow and a teasing light in his eyes.

She gave him a rueful smile. “Okay. Mostly me. I think I was down there harassing them every day over it. But we had to get the sensitivity correct, or the next step in my program would have been delayed. As it was, it was barely finished in time so I could bring it on this cruise.” She held out her hand. “May I?”

Chip handed her the regulator. “Be my guest.”

Lynn smiled her thanks, and laid the regulator on the worktable, mouthpiece up. Retrieving her reading glasses from the briefcase alongside the worktable, she set to work. Taking the sensor strip out of the box, she removed the plastic backing strip, exposing the glue. The sensor strip was wide enough to cover the pedestal of the mouthpiece, and Lynn slowly placed the strip, being careful to eliminate any air bubbles as she aligned it on the mouthpiece.

Leaning on the worktable, Chip watched in amusement as she worked. All of her attention was focused on the items in her hands. The tip of her tongue peeked out between her lips, and she appeared to be holding her breath – the two personal mannerisms she’d mentioned in their discussion of body language the day before.

When she was finished, she took a deep breath, critically surveyed her work, then handed it to Chip. “All done.”

“Nice job, Doctor,” Chip told her, and she nodded, giving him a shy smile. “What about the battery pack?”

“It just clips on to your tank harness. See?” She indicated the fastener on the back of the stainless steel case. “Then just cable-tie the wire to the air hose when you re-attach your regulator. Unless you want me to do it.”

“I think I can handle that part.” _Although_ , he thought, _it would probably be more fun to watch her do it._ He set the regulator on the worktable. “Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the tank.

Lynn nodded and put her glasses securely away, and together they walked to the waiting dolphins.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
> Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
> Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
> Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
> Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
> CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
> Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
> Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
> Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
> Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
> Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
> Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
> Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
> Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
> Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
> Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
> Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
> Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
> Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
> Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
> Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
> Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
> Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
> Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
> Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	8. Stu, You've Been Drinkin' Bilge Water Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

On the second day of the sonar trials, Chip decided to make the test a little tougher. The initial launches were straightforward and routine, but midway through, he had two dummy torpedoes launched at once, sending them on two separate but converging spiral courses. Then he instructed them to begin broadcasting.

The system seemed confused at first, then handily sorted out the conflicting signals, displaying icons that moved as the dummy torpedoes moved in the water.

Chip nodded in satisfaction as Kowalski’s voice came over the speaker on the overhead. “The first is an old _Foxtrot_ attack boat, Mister Morton, and the second is _Baton Rouge_ , SSN-689.”

“How long did it take to identify them, Kowalski?” Chip asked.

“Maybe a few seconds, sir, but you should see those icons skating around the screen! It looks like a video game!”

Chip smiled at the delight that was evident, even over the 1MC, in Kowalski’s voice, then selected two of the signals he’d used in the earlier part of the test and brought them back into the mix. Within seconds, Kowalski had identified them.

They continued the test until all of the dummies had been launched. Chip kept the rest of the test relatively straightforward, perfunctorily testing the system without any capricious actions on his part. To his mind, it had already proven itself in test conditions – but would it perform as well with live subjects?

That remained to be seen.

He looked at his watch. 1300 – later than he’d thought. _How time flies when you’re having fun,_ Chip thought, then turned to Sharkey. “Secure the equipment, please, Chief – I’ll be in the control room if you need me.”

“Aye, sir,” Sharkey said efficiently, then took over at the control panel. Behind him, the missile room watch set to their duties.

Chip could have finished up himself, but Sharkey hated it when officers took too much upon themselves. It was easier and far more politic to let Sharkey put things to rights in the missile room, while Chip went on to what Sharkey had so often referred to as “officers’ work.”

Taking himself out of Sharkey’s way, Chip walked to the mike on the instrument panel on the escape hatch and double-clicked through to the control room. “Control room, this is the exec.”

Nelson responded immediately. “Yes, Chip?”

“All torpedo dummies launched, sir.”

“Good job. Captain Crane thinks you had a little too much fun at times, however.”

“He would, Admiral,” Chip said, amusement bleeding over into his voice.

“ _Keyport_ is collecting the dummy torpedoes now,” Nelson told him. “Meet me in the nose – I have a few questions for you.”

“Aye, sir,” Chip acknowledged. “I’m on my way.” He racked the mike and headed for the hatch leading forward.

On his way to the control room, Chip ran into Riley and Kowalski, who were just coming off watch.

“Great test, huh, Mister Morton?” Riley asked.

Chip suppressed a smile – as usual, Riley’s enthusiasm made him resemble nothing so much as an overeager puppy. “Yes, Riley, it worked very well – in two days of testing. In the real world, though – well, that still remains to be seen.”

“Yeah, right,” Riley agreed, with no reduction in his level of enthusiasm.

The two ratings stood there, looking as if they had something to say but not quite sure how to broach the subject.

“Is that all?” Chip asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not really,” Riley said, then looked at Kowalski.

Kowalski took the cue. “Mister Morton, the Doc says she can get along without us, but she’s used to all sorts of help back on shore. She’s all alone now.”

“What are you saying, Kowalski?” Chip asked. “Are you volunteering?”

Kowalski shrugged. “Yeah, I guess we are – the Doc needs the help and better us than somebody who doesn’t know the dolphins. Right, Stu?” Kowalski surreptitiously elbowed Riley.

“Huh?” Riley looked up. “Oh yeah, right, Ski. We thought we’d grab something to eat then head to the tank compartment – if that’s jake with you, sir. We already cleared it with Mister Carter – he said our backups can take our watches later. But we wanted to run it by you in case you…mighta had other plans.”

Chip looked from one guileless face to another, then shook his head and looked at his watch. “All right – head for the tank compartment after your meal. I’m sure Doctor Murtagh will appreciate the assistance.”

“Thanks, Mister Morton,” Kowalski said. “Let’s go eat, Stu.”

“Right, Thanks, XO,” Riley said with even more than his normal enthusiasm, then followed Kowalski.

Shaking his head ruefully at Riley’s seemingly boundless energy, Chip watched them enter the crew’s mess, then detoured to the Goat Locker to find Chief Nolan, the Senior CPO in the Electronics Department, and as such, Riley and Kowalski’s direct supervisor.

Nolan was just finishing up his lunch when Chip stopped at the doorway to the Chiefs’ Quarters, rapped smartly on the doorframe, then waited for permission to enter. The Goat Locker was the domain of _Seaview’s_ chiefs, and every officer on board needed permission to enter, right on up to and including Admiral Nelson.

Nolan smiled at Chip and beckoned to him to enter. “Come on in and take a load off, XO,” he said, pulling out the chair next to him.

“I only have a minute, Chief,” Chip said, shaking his head as he strode to the table. “Kowalski and Riley have volunteered to help Doctor Murtagh this afternoon.”

“I already have their backups set to take their watches this afternoon,” Nolan said. “Hey, the test went pretty well this morning – better even than yesterday. Looks like our new toy’s gonna work out okay.”

Chip nodded. “Yes, it looks that way. I’m on my way to a debriefing with the Admiral about it right now.”

“I’ll have my report to you by seventeen-hundred,” Nolan said.

“Thanks, Chief,” Chip said, and left the Goat Locker, headed to the control room for his debriefing with the Admiral.

** *** **

Lynn had fed the dolphins their lunch and was getting ready to leave for the wardroom for her own meal when she looked up to see Kowalski and Riley enter the tank compartment, dressed in wetsuits. “What are you guys doing here?” she asked in surprise.

“The testing sequence is over, so we’re back,” Kowalski told her. “Mister Morton cleared it. What can we do?”

“Well, I just fed them their lunch, and it isn’t time to clean the tank, but you can play with them if you like.”

“All right!” Riley said, and cannonballed into the tank. Lynn and Kowalski exchanged amused glances, then followed, albeit more sedately.

They played with the dolphins – tossing a Frisbee, playing catch, dolphin volleyball or dolphin in the middle until they were interrupted by a glaring Bishop.

“What are you men doing here?” he snarled.

“A better question is, what are **you** doing here?” Lynn demanded, but Bishop ignored her.

“Sir, we were assigned --” Kowalski began, but Bishop cut him off.

“I’m assigning you elsewhere,” Bishop snapped. “Get out of that tank, now. You have more important work to do than playing with those damned fish.”

“I wouldn’t do that, Lieutenant,” Lynn said calmly, though she was seething inside. She was well aware that she had to keep her temper under control in front of Riley and Kowalski – but it wasn’t going to be easy.

“I wasn’t talking to you,” Bishop snapped.

“But **I’m** talking to **you** ,” Lynn shot back. “These two men were assigned to me.”

“And **I’m** reassigning them,” Bishop spat.

Lynn moved between Bishop and the two ratings; the dolphins swam uneasily over. Maxie interposed her sleek body sideways between her human and Bishop, and Lynn reached down and rested her palms on Maxie’s back. The two males came up on either side of her, facing Bishop, clapping their beaks in a warning gesture. “Easy, boys,” she said softly, but neither relaxed their body language.

It belatedly occurred to her that this might not be a smart move on her part, but she couldn’t back down now. “If you have a beef with me, Lieutenant, you take it up with **me**. Don’t take it out on these guys. They’re only following orders.”

“I wouldn’t waste my time on you,” Bishop sneered. “Now, out,” he said to Kowalski and Riley, accompanying his words with a thumb-jerk in the direction of the hatch.

Lynn drew herself up to her full height, though her position in the tank put her at a decided disadvantage. “Are you often in the habit of countermanding orders given by one of your superiors? These men were assigned here by the XO, but if you really want to, you go right ahead and reassign them. I’ll make sure Commander Morton hears about this in nothing flat even if I have to drip water all the way up to the control room.”

Bishop glared at Lynn. “You haven’t heard the last of this, Doctor,” he said as he stomped toward the hatch.

“I certainly hope not, Lieutenant,” Lynn called after him. “And they’re **not** fish!”

“Thanks, Doc,” Kowalski said uneasily after the hatch clanged shut behind Bishop. “I hate being on the receiving end of one of his tantrums.”

“Wow!” Riley said. Nobody stands up to Bishop – even most of the other senior lieutenants keep their distance.”

“Maybe that’s part of the problem,” Lynn mused. “Let’s get back to our game.”

“How much you wanna bet Mister Morton pays us a visit in a couple of minutes?” Kowalski asked Riley in low tones, looking uncertainly at Lynn to see if she’d heard.

“Oh, he’ll be here all right,” Riley said.

Lynn looked from one rating to the other. “You guys aren’t worried, are you?”

Kowalski shrugged. “If Bishop goes to him and complains, he’ll be down here to investigate. He’ll have to.”

“If he doesn’t give you a fair hearing, he isn’t the man I think he is,” Lynn said flatly.

“No, Doc,” Kowalski hurried to assure her, “he’s fair. He even bends over backwards for some people.” He sent a significant look in Riley’s direction.

“Yeah, he does,” Riley said, a sheepish expression on his face.

“The XO is a nice guy, Doc,” Kowalski told her. “You want to work hard for him – because you don’t want to let him down.”

“But if you let him down, he lets you know. And then you don’t do it again,” Riley said. “Or, at least, you try.”

“But when you need him, he’s there. When Henderson’s mother died, he paid for the roundtrip plane ticket to Georgia out of his own money,” Kowalski said.

“Really,” Lynn said.

“And he never asked for a penny of it back, either,” Riley finished.

“You guys sound like you like him,” Lynn said, hoping she didn’t sound like she was trying to grill them for information.

“He’s a pretty likeable guy, for an officer,” Riley said.

“He cracks the whip when he has to,” Kowalski said, “but he doesn’t do it **more** than he has to – you know what I mean?”

“Yeah. He sounds like my mother,” Lynn said wryly.

“You guys have gotten pretty close, haven’t you?” Riley asked.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “We’ve gotten **friendly** , Rile – don’t read something into it that isn’t there,” she said patiently.

“Sure, Doc – whatever you say,” Riley said and gave her a smug grin. “Whatever you say.”

** *** **

Sitting at the table in the nose, Chip and Nelson were discussing the two days’ worth of sonar tests over coffee when Lieutenant Bishop charged forward past the duty stations, stopping before them with an indignant expression on his face.

Nelson and Chip exchanged a “what now?” look, then Chip crossed his arms and looked up at Bishop. “Lieutenant?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His body language fairly screamed that Bishop had better have a good reason for interrupting them.

“I want Kowalski and Riley placed on report,” Bishop spat.

Chip raised an eyebrow. “For what reason?”

“I gave them a lawful order and they refused!” Bishop stated indignantly, his face flushed.

“What did you order them do to?” Chip asked calmly.

“I ordered them to stop playing with those damned dolphins and get back to their assigned duties,” Bishop asserted, self-righteousness dripping from every pore.

“ ‘Playing with those damned dolphins’ **is** their assigned duty,” Chip said dryly, fully aware that Nelson wasn’t a bit happy at the interruption. “Assigned by **me**.”

“That’s what they said,” Bishop sputtered, disgruntled by Chip’s statement. “But they were insubordinate about it, and I want them on report.”

Chip suppressed a sigh, then turned to Nelson. “If you’ll excuse me, Admiral. I’ll be in the tank compartment.”

“By all means, Commander,” Nelson said, his eyes on Bishop. “I’m sure you’ll handle this in your own inimitable style.”

“I’ll get the paperwork for you,” Bishop said.

“I can handle my own paperwork, Lieutenant – **if** any is necessary,” Chip said dryly as he stood. “And I’ll be the one to make that decision – not you. You’re due on watch, I believe.”

Bishop nodded sharply. “Yes.”

“Then don’t you let me keep you from it,” Chip said, raising an eyebrow significantly.

“But aren’t you going to gig them?” Bishop demanded.

Chip crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Lieutenant, how long have you been on _Seaview_?”

Bishop frowned. “I came aboard not long after she was commissioned. You know that,” he said indignantly.

“Then you should be well acquainted with my habit of getting both sides to every story,” Chip said calmly. _Especially where you’re concerned._ “Take your watch, Mister Bishop.” He turned back to Nelson without waiting to see if Bishop obeyed. “Admiral.”

Nelson just nodded and lit another cigarette as Chip moved aft past the duty stations and out the aft hatch.

** *** **

Lynn, Kowalski, and Riley were playing keep-away with the dolphins, with the dolphins easily getting the better of them.

“Hey, Doc, you ever think of setting up basketball nets for these guys and teach them how to slam-dunk?” Kowalski asked.

“Hey, that would be a real trip! Whaddaya say, Doc?” Riley joined in. “We could rig something up for them.”

Lynn started to reply, then all three turned as the hatch opened and Chip stepped through and strode tankside.

“You want to see me, I suppose?” Lynn asked before he could say anything.

Chip slid his hands into his hip pockets and looked down at them with that impenetrable gaze of his that he knew revealed nothing of what he was thinking.

In the tank, Riley and Kowalski looked nervous – but Doctor Murtagh’s expression was far different. She was beyond angry. The green eyes that usually displayed humor and intelligence now showed pure molten rage.

Chip realized that Bishop had left a significant portion of the story untold – even more than he had anticipated. “I’d like to speak to these two first,” he finally said. “Kowalski, Lieutenant Bishop tells me you were insubordinate to him a few minutes ago. Is that true?”

“It’s an outright lie!” Lynn said before Kowalski could open his mouth to answer.

Chip slowly looked away from Kowalski and gave her his full attention. “Accusing an officer of lying is a pretty serious charge, Doctor,” he said softly.

“I’ll say it right to his weaselly little face, if I have to – and in front of Captain Crane and Admiral Nelson, to boot! Poor Kowalski couldn’t even finish what he was saying before that scheming little creep jumped all over him. As for being an **officer** ,” Lynn spat the word out, “he’s a sorry excuse for one. God help this boat and her crew if you ever leave and he fleets up to your job!”

Chip blew a long breath out of the side of his mouth. “Why don’t you tell me what happened.”

“That ridiculous little martinet came down here and started throwing his weight around, harassing two guys who couldn’t fight back. I certainly wasn’t gonna let him abuse Ski and Riley right in front of me!” She pushed herself out of the tank and walked over to Chip, leaving a trail of water on the deck behind her. “Then he tried to countermand one of your orders. He couldn’t retaliate against me for the scene he made at lunch the other day, so he tried to hurt these two guys. That **lowlife**!”

There were times, Chip thought, when those bright green eyes could turn fiery and spark with anger – and this was one of those times. He hoped he was never on the receiving end. “Don’t worry, Doctor – I have no intention of leaving,” he told her.

“That ought to make a lot of people happy,” Lynn said.

Chip suppressed a grin. While he didn’t disagree with her – he thought Bishop was a poor excuse for an officer, too – he couldn’t very well come out and say so in front of Riley and Kowalski, and smiling would be just as bad. He shot a glance toward Kowalski and Riley, noticing the frankly admiring looks on their faces. This little incident would be all over the boat in no time. He wondered what it would eventually sound like, and made a mental note to ask Chief Nolan in a day or so. He’d know of any talk circulating in his department, and he wouldn’t overreact to the situation the way Sharkey would.

Completely oblivious to the effect of her words on the two enlisted men, Lynn continued to rail against Bishop. “Someone ought to tell that little slug that two bars mean captain in the Army, **not** in the Navy.”

Needing to get the situation under control, Chip said, “Doctor, I haven’t eaten yet, and I doubt you have, either – why don’t we discuss this in the wardroom over a cup of coffee and a bite to eat?” Chip suggested. _More fuel for the fire,_ he thought, but he didn’t care. Discussing this in front of Kowalski and Riley was a very bad idea.

Lynn indicated her royal blue and lime green wetskin. “I’m not really dressed for the wardroom.”

“I’ll wait while you change. I want to discuss the dive, anyway.”

“Okay,” Lynn said, and nodded. “Ski, Riley, please prep the fish for dinner, then start cleaning the tank while I’m gone, okay?”

“Sure, Doc. Whatever you want.” Riley said. He wore an ear-to-ear grin.

Lynn scowled at him, then strode to the hatch, her body language still broadcasting her anger at Bishop. With a final cautionary glance at Kowalski and Riley, who were doing their best to look innocent, Chip followed her.

Riley and Kowalski watched them leave. “Think there’s something goin’ on there, Ski?” Riley asked.

Kowalski shook his head and reached into the cooler for a package of defrosted mackerel. “Nah. It’s like the Doc says – they’re friendly, that’s all.”

“Maybe,” Riley said with a shrug. “But I think they’d both like to get more than friendly.”

Kowalski gave a skeptical snort. “Come on, Stu. The Doc’s not Mister Morton’s type. You know the women he goes for – they all look like models or movie stars. Doc’s more like – your sister.” He frowned, then said, “Come to think of it, she even looks a little like your sister Annie - I think it's the hair.”

Riley shook his head. “I don’t know, Ski. They spend an awful lot of time together.”

“He’s her liaison, remember? “Kowalski pointed out. “Besides, she spends a lot of time with us, too.”

“But she doesn’t look at **us** the way she looks at **him** ,” Riley pointed out smugly. “And the XO looks at her the same way.”

Rolling his eyes, Kowalski shook his head. “Stu, you’ve been drinkin’ bilge water again.”

“We’ll see, Ski, we’ll see.” And Riley turned back to the worktable.

** *** **

Chip reached out and grabbed Lynn’s arm, stopping her headlong charge down the corridor. “Hey, wait a minute,” he said, turning her to look at him.

Lynn stopped in her tracks, looking down at the hand on her arm before lifting questioning eyes to his. “What?”

Self-consciously, he dropped his hand. “Anyone passing by would think you’re mad at **me**.”

Surprise lit Lynn’s green eyes, and she shook her head emphatically. “Oh, no, Commander. Not in the slightest. In fact, my estimation of you just went up a whole bunch of notches just now. I like the way you handled that back there.”

“Handled it?” Chip asked. “I didn’t ‘handle’ anything. You didn’t give me a chance to.”

“Sorry,” Lynn said grudgingly.

“Apology accepted,” Chip said dryly.

Lynn sighed heavily. “Somebody ought to put Bishop on a leash. With a choke collar. And a muzzle.” She shook her head vehemently. “Hell, he’s a NUB if ever I’ve seen one,” she spat.

“A non-useful body?” Chip asked, hiding his smile, which he suspected wouldn’t go over very well at that moment, considering the mood she was in. “Doctor, your upbringing is showing,” he chided.

Lynn raised an eyebrow. “My upbringing? My family is full of brown-shoe naval aviators, Commander, not bubbleheads. Five years of living in New London is what’s showing,” she told him. “My condo development was filled with bubbleheads – and I use that term with all sincere affection. But back to Bishop. He throws his rank around. He’s a damned poor leader.”

Chip gave her a noncommittal shrug. “Maybe.”

“ **Maybe**?” Lynn repeated. “There’s no maybe involved, Commander. And I don’t see **you** doing it.”

“I don’t have to.”

“Neither does he,” Lynn shot back.

“Maybe he feels he has to.”

Lynn’s eyes widened. “Why are you defending him?” she demanded.

“I’m not. I’m playing devil’s advocate,” Chip said gently. “To be honest, I happen to agree wholeheartedly with everything you’ve said.”

Suddenly she blushed and averted her eyes. “I’m sorry. I’ve overstepped my bounds. I’ve never been accused of being shy, but I don’t usually make a scene. I apologize.” She looked back up at him apologetically.

“Apology accepted. Again.” He smiled down at her. “Feeling better?”

“Marginally,” Lynn answered sheepishly. “But I’m feeling pretty stupid, too.”

Chip’s smile widened into a grin. “That will pass.”

“Oh, I certainly hope so.”

They resumed the walk to her cabin. Chip stole a look at her out of the corner of his eye. From the set of her shoulders and the way her jaw was working, Chip could see that she was still annoyed. It wasn’t surprising. Bishop could try the patience of a saint.

“Bishop, _du bist so ein Arschloch_ ,” Lynn muttered under her breath.

“You’re putting him in the same category as Sammy?” Chip asked.

Lynn huffed and gave him a tight smile. “I swear, your hearing is as good as mine.”

“It comes with the XO billet.

Lynn couldn’t help but smile at that. “I suppose it does. And no – he’s worse than Sammy. Besides - he doesn't deserve to be compared to my dolphins. A sea slug, maybe, but not a dolphin."

They continued on, with Lynn falling silent. As they reached the passageway that led to Officers’ Country, Lynn stopped in her tracks and looked up at him. “Commander, can you keep Bishop out of the tank compartment?” she asked unexpectedly.

“Why?” Chip asked in surprise.

“I don’t want him near the dolphins.”

Chip raised an eyebrow and looked down at her. “Doctor, I need a better reason than that to order him to keep clear,” he pointed out.

Lynn cocked her head to one side. “Okay, then, how about this? His mere presence will annoy me beyond belief, and that will upset the dolphins, and an upset dolphin is an unhappy dolphin, and an unhappy dolphin – times three in this instance – won’t perform the way I need them to, and the test will fail miserably, making us look like complete idiots in front of a representative of an outside research facility, and then we’ll have one very unhappy four-star Admiral – who just happens to sign our paychecks – on our hands, and we don’t want that to happen, do we?”

“No, we definitely don’t want that,” Chip agreed, amused and more than a little impressed that she’d gotten that entire convoluted sentence out without running out of breath. He nodded. “Okay, that’s good enough. I’ll tell Bishop personally.”

“Thank you.”

They walked on in silence until Lynn asked, “This has happened before, hasn’t it?”

Chip looked at her, considering how much he should say. “Riley and Bishop have had a few run-ins before,” he finally admitted. “Bishop doesn’t have much patience with Riley.” He chuckled. “Stu Riley could teach slippery to a fish.”

“He’s a sleaze,” Lynn muttered as they reached her cabin. “Bishop, not Riley.” She met Chip’s gaze unflinchingly as she opened her cabin door and preceded him inside. “A good officer leads by example, not by intimidation. But I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know.”

“No, Doctor, you aren’t. And Bishop has a lot to learn about leadership,” Chip said tiredly, sitting in the desk chair and stretching his legs out, crossing them at the ankle. “But if you repeat that, I’ll deny I ever said it.”

“I never heard a word you said.” Lynn smiled tightly and turned toward the VIP cabin’s small closet.

“What’s that?” Chip asked, jerking his chin toward the large loose-leaf notebook that was open on the desk.

Lynn looked toward the desk. “That? It’s kind of a survival manual for dealing with a different species – the bottlenose dolphin, to be precise. My ideas on how to understand them and work with them. Actually, it’s a work in progress. I don’t think it will ever be finished.”

His gaze fell on the hardcover book that lay alongside the notebook. The cover caught his attention and he lifted it, eyes widening as he took in the title. _Neptune’s Warriors, US Attack Submarines in WWII,_ by B.K. Cullen. “Where did you get this?” he asked, holding it out to her.

“That? It was a present,” Lynn said in an offhand manner.

“From who, the author?” Chip asked dryly. “It hasn’t even been published yet.”

“How do you know?” Lynn asked carefully.

“Because I pre-ordered it from the publisher,” Chip told her. “It won’t be out until the end of next month.”

Lynn pursed her lips. “So…I guess you’re familiar with Cullen’s work, then, huh?”

“He’s an outstanding historian – I have most of his books in my personal library,” Chip said. “We used several of his books at the Academy. They were standard texts in our history classes.”

“No, you didn’t.” Lynn shook her head. “You used several of **her** books at the Academy. Cullen’s my mother.”

“Your **what**?” Chip asked in surprise.

“My mother,” Lynn repeated, allowing a touch of pride to slip through in her tone. “Bridget Kathleen Cullen is her maiden name, and she writes under B.K. It’s gender-neutral, so it gives her more credibility in writing for a male-dominated market.” Lynn didn’t feel like mentioning that using the last name “Murtagh” would give her biological father bragging rights her mother had no desire to convey. “That’s an author’s copy – my mother sent it to me last week. You want to borrow it?”

His eyes widened. “You don’t mind?”

“No. Take it.” She smiled. “I’ve read it. Hell, I proofread most of the manuscript before it went to the publisher.”

“Thank you,” Chip said, laying the book in his lap. Then he pointed to the framed photo on the desk. “Your brothers?”

Lynn stopped gathering clothing and nodded. “Yeah. Jack and Kevin, anyway. I don’t have a recent photo of the runt. I take them wherever I go – it makes things a little less lonely.”

“Are you lonely here?” he asked softly.

She paused, thinking. “A little. You guys make me feel right at home, but still –” Her words cut off abruptly, as if once more, she’d realized she’d revealed more than she’d intended. “I’ll be right back,” she said hastily, and darted into the head.

Chip sprawled in the desk chair and stared after her thoughtfully. Her self-protective instincts were strong. Their budding – friendship? – aside, she still refused to reveal too much of herself to him. He couldn’t blame her, really. His own self-protective instincts were just as strong, if not stronger.

His eyes fell on the open binder on the desk. He was tempted to read it, but that would have been rude, so he restrained the urge, contenting himself with flipping through the book in his lap. There was a handwritten dedication in flowing script on the blank page opposite the title page:

**Lynn –**

**Yet another manuscript becomes yet another book. And, yet again, I couldn’t have done it without you.**

**Love,**

**Mom.**

He heard the water stop running, and soon after Lynn appeared at the door to the head. She was dressed in her usual “uniform” of jeans and a long-sleeved tee shirt, this one in a vibrant turquoise. Her hair – wet, it was darker, close to the color of a new copper penny with dark gold highlights – was slicked back behind her ears and held up off her shoulders by a silver clip, and she wore no makeup.

“I’m ready,” she said unnecessarily.

Chip decided to go along with the game. He rose, tucked the book under his arm, and made a sweeping gesture toward the door. “After you, Doctor.”

Lynn gave him a measuring look, then gave him a half-smile and sauntered toward the door.

“Do you want to make an official complaint?” Chip asked when they’d helped themselves to coffee and sandwiches from the spread on the sideboard provided for officers coming off watch between mealtimes.

Lynn hooked a foot around a chair and pulled it out. “Would it do anything?”

“It would go into Bishop’s personnel file,” Chip told her.

“Is there enough room in there for another report?” Lynn asked dryly.

Chip smiled and nodded. “I’ve given Bishop an extra-large file jacket.”

“I’m sure he needs one.” She took a bite of her sandwich and followed it with a swallow of coffee. “No. I don’t want to file a report. He’d only take it out on crewmen with less power than he has.”

Chip nodded. “Your choice.”

“You **can** , however, include my feelings and reactions in **your** report,” Lynn pointed out.

Chip looked at her in amusement. “That’s called an end run, Doctor,” he said dryly.

“Yeah, I know. But I’m sure you can put a veneer of impartiality on it,” Lynn pointed out with such an innocent expression that he had to stifle a laugh.

“No doubt I can.” Chip shrugged, trying not to smile and failing miserably. “If that’s the way you want to handle it....”

Lynn nodded. “It’s probably best. I don’t want to cause any problems, and he’ll only dump on other people. Besides, you guys know the score – nothing I can say will make a difference. You deal with him as you will. You know how to handle this better than I do, anyway.”

Chip gave her a long, measuring stare, then nodded. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” He topped off his mug and stood. “We’ll talk about this later. I have a report to write. And thanks for the loan of the book.” Then he winked at her, picked up the book, and left.

Lynn watched him go, then sighed. _You can never keep your mouth shut, can you, Murtagh?_ Still, Commander Morton had been very understanding. And he **was** the best one to handle this, after all.

He had a temper, she supposed. He just never let it get the better of him – not that she’d seen. He was too controlled, too dignified to allow that to happen. Lynn wondered what monumental occurrence it would take to snap that control. She wondered, but she knew she didn’t want to be around to find out. Her own temper rarely surfaced, unless prodded to wakefulness by an action outrageously stupid or inhumane. Then her Irish temper was very hard to control. She could get madder than hell, and when she did, everything in her path was in mortal danger.

Well, she had work to do, and none of it would get done if she sat here and daydreamed. She drained her mug and went back to the tank compartment.

** *** **

Chip dropped off the book in his cabin, then headed for the control room where he knew Lieutenant Bishop was standing watch as the navigator with Larry Baker as the Officer of the Watch.

While he could clatter down the spiral stairs in the nose with the best of them, Chip also had a way of soundlessly descending the stairway, seemingly appearing out of nowhere to the surprise of the control room watch. He descended, then stood at the base of the stairs momentarily, drinking his coffee, looking aft into the control room silently and observing the duty watch for a moment. Nelson was gone, but Bishop was at the chart table, with Baker standing further aft by the periscope island.

Bishop didn’t acknowledge Chip’s presence, but Baker came forward the instant he saw Chip. “Lieutenant Bishop,” Chip said, striding to the chart table, “I need to see you in the ship’s office, now.”

“I’m on watch,” Bishop said, hardly sparing Chip a glance.

Chip resisted the overwhelming urge to go up one side of Bishop and down the other right in front of the entire control room watch. It would have been no less than the man deserved, but he preferred not to cause a scene unless it suited him. So he simply said, “Lieutenant, when I speak to you, you **will** give me your full attention. Do you understand me?”

Bishop must have heard something in Chip’s voice, because he straightened and sullenly looked at Chip. “Aye, sir.”

“Good. Then we don’t need to have a very public lesson about how to behave when you’re addressed by a superior officer.” Chip turned to Larry Baker, saying, “Mister Baker, call Mister O’Brien to the control room to relieve Mister Bishop as navigator.”

“Aye, sir,” Baker said crisply, immediately calling Bobby O’Brien to the control room over the 1MC.

“Sir, this is irregular,” Bishop protested.

Chip reined in his temper, knowing that by remaining calm, he would further infuriate Bishop. It was a petty thing, he knew, but he derived an immense amount of enjoyment from it. “We will discuss this in the ship’s office. Not here. Do you understand, Lieutenant?”

Bishop shot him a sour look. “Yes.”

“Yes, who?” Chip prodded, his tone frosty.

“Yes, sir,” Bishop said grudgingly.

“When your relief reports, you will proceed immediately to the ship’s office,” Chip ordered. “Don’t make me come looking for you.”

“No, sir,” Bishop said with ill grace.

Chip merely lifted the corners of his lips in a mirthless smile, then turned and ascended the spiral staircase as silently as he’d descended.

** *** **

While he waited for Bishop to arrive in the small ship’s office he shared with Lee Crane, Chip busied himself with pulling Bishop’s rather thick service jacket, then arrayed a legal pad and pen on the desk beside it while he considered the problem Bishop presented.

Chip and Nelson had long suspected that Lieutenant Bishop was Admiral Rickover’s mole on _Seaview_ , recruited as such when Chip had refused to provide any information on _Seaview_ to the head of Naval Reactors after Nelson had recruited him to be _Seaview’s_ executive officer eight years earlier. That decision had cost Chip dearly in terms of advancement at the time, torpedoing his scheduled promotion to full commander, and also in the intervening years, but it had allowed him to retain his self-respect – which was, in the end, far more important to him.

The fierce rivalry between Admiral Harriman Nelson and Admiral Hyman Rickover went back decades, and Rickover was furious that his omnipotence over his own domain at Naval Reactors and the Navy’s nuclear program didn’t extend to control over _Seaview_ and Nelson’s other projects, as well as the Nelson Institute itself. But Nelson had his own well-established power base within the Navy and the halls of Congress, and knew how to wield it for his own benefit.

Nelson knew that Bishop would pass information on _Seaview_ and NIMR’s other projects on to Rickover, whom Nelson had kept out of the loop regarding important developments as much as possible. Better the devil you know, however, and Nelson made sure that Bishop occasionally had tasty tidbits to pass on to the man he privately referred to as “The Prince of Darkness” – a nickname shared with only a few close friends at flag level, as well as Chip – information that was just enough to tantalize, yet not detailed enough to truly inform.

Chip looked up briefly as the door opened, then directed his gaze back to his pad. “You wanted to see me?” Bishop asked, his tone surly, his expression petulant, and his body language disrespectful as he closed the door with a little too much force.

“You’ve forgotten how to knock, I see,” Chip said without looking up, making a notation on the pad. “Let’s try this again.”

Bishop glared at him, but went back into the passageway and closed the door behind him. A long moment later he knocked.

“Enter,” Chip called, keeping his voice calm and level.

“You wanted to see me?” Bishop asked, his voice dripping with disrespect.

Bishop started to sit in the chair alongside the desk, but Chip speared him with a glance. “Ah-ah. Did you hear the word ‘sit’?”

“No,” Bishop said, straightening..

“No, who?”

“No, sir,” Bishop said grudgingly.

”And you won’t,” Chip said flatly. “You won’t be here long enough to get comfortable, Lieutenant. Remain standing.” Bishop straightened reluctantly and glared at Chip, who calmly gazed back.

Chip tapped his pen on the pad for a few moments, idly looking over what he’d written, keeping Bishop waiting. Finally, he leaned back in his chair, tossing the pen to the pad as he did so, and looked up at the navigator for several long moments. Chip’s eyes were calm, yet cold as ice, and Bishop should have known that was the time to be afraid – more afraid, in fact, than if Chip’s expression had been overtly menacing. But Bishop didn’t have that kind of sense. He was too narcissistic to recognize the danger signals those above him on the food chain regularly displayed. He was borderline dangerous to unit cohesiveness – but he didn’t know his own limits, and he didn’t seem to have any desire to discover them, either.

Finally Chip spoke. “Lieutenant, your skills as a navigator are excellent – in fact, I’d even say they’re exceptional. But frankly, your leadership skills are non-existent, which is why you never stand a watch as Officer of the Deck.”

“That can be changed,” Bishop challenged.

“But it won’t be,” Chip said flatly. “That’s a safeguard I put in place four years ago when _Seaview_ ended up on the bottom in a minefield the last time you were Officer of the Deck. And that’s not an experience I care to repeat in this or any other lifetime.”

Bishop said nothing, just looked at him sullenly, so Chip continued. “First of all, I’ve written you up for insubordination for your behavior in the control room.”

“Why?” Bishop demanded.

“That should be obvious. And you just demonstrated it – again. Might I remind you that those infractions are recorded on your fitreps and can affect your retention at contract renewal time as well as your chances for promotion in the Naval Reserve?” Chip fixed him with a long stare. “You need to tread softly, Lieutenant. Your behavior in the control room has you on very dangerous ground right now.” Chip leaned back in his chair, his relaxed posture a decided counterpoint to Bishop’s defensive stance. “Now – as to Doctor Murtagh –”

“I don’t like her,” Bishop snarled. “She has too many freedoms on this boat.”

“Your attitude toward Doctor Murtagh is completely irrelevant,” Chip said, the softness of his tone belying the true danger Bishop was in – a danger of which the navigator still seemingly remained ignorant. “It doesn’t matter whether you like her or not. You don’t get a vote.” He paused. “I wasn’t going to bring this up until we’d returned to the Institute, but your actions today have caused me to add it to the agenda.” Chip’s eyes hardened. “The entire wardroom witnessed you making unwanted advances to a guest aboard _Seaview_ the other day.”

“That’s an exaggeration,” Bishop protested.

“Not according to your fellow officers.”

“Or her, I bet,” Bishop snarled.

“No, Lieutenant. Doctor Murtagh had very little to say on the subject – although I’ve heard that she made her feelings about your attention **very** clear to you. The captain and I are not happy with your actions, and if it ever happens again, to **any** of our guests, you will be extremely sorry. Am I clear?”

“Yes, sir,” Bishop said with ill grace.

“Good. Now, regarding Kowalski and Riley – ”

“Sir, they were – ”

Chip held up a hand to cut off Bishop before he could wind up into a tirade. “Don’t interrupt me again.” He took a sharp breath. “Lieutenant, there is no ‘they’ on this submarine. This is one cohesive unit – and it needs to be, for effective operations. If you insist on referring to the men as ‘they,’ it’s no wonder you have trouble relating to them.”

Bishop stared at Chip for a long moment before speaking. “Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Chip nodded. “Go ahead.”

“That talk belongs in the civilian world. It’s too new-agey.”

Chip raised an eyebrow. “In case it had escaped your notice, Lieutenant, this **is** officially a civilian vessel.”

“In name only,” Bishop snapped.

“In which case it would behoove you to adhere to military discipline yourself. You demand military courtesy from those below you, yet you refuse to extend it to your superiors. Your attitude toward the rest of the officers and crew is sub-standard – and it’s getting worse.”

“Maybe it’s the rest of the officers and the crew who are sub-standard,” Bishop said with a sneer.

“Lieutenant, your attitude needs adjusting,” Chip said calmly, even though inwardly, he was seething.

“That’s not your call to make,” Bishop spat.

Chip held on to his temper as he held Bishop’s gaze for a long moment, staring at the navigator until Bishop uneasily looked away. Then Chip made another brief note on his pad. “On the contrary,” he said in a voice dripping with ice, “it is **well** within the scope of my duties as executive officer of this vessel. And that last comment of yours is going into the report I’m placing in your personnel file. Care to dig the hole a little deeper?”

“No.

“No, **who**?” Chip prompted.

“No, sir,” Bishop said grudgingly.

“Get your head on straight, and do it now,” Chip ordered. “I’m running out of patience and so are Captain Crane and Admiral Nelson.”

“Then they should tell me that themselves,” Bishop asserted.

Chip stared hard at Bishop until the other man started to squirm, then made another note. “You’re giving that shovel of yours a real workout, Lieutenant.” He sat up straight and leaned across the desk, his body language a clear warning to anyone with half a brain that he was just this side of furious. “This is what you’ll do. Stay clear of the tank compartment – you have no reason to be there anyway. You also have no reason to order Kowalski and Riley off an assignment – especially **after** they told you they’d been assigned there.”

“It wasn’t in the Plan of the Day,” Bishop grumbled.

Chip looked at Bishop as if he’d grown a second head. “Does that sound as stupid to you as it does to me? The Plan of the Day isn’t engraved in stone. I assign men as I see fit to meet the needs of this boat and her mission. “You don’t get a vote.”

“Now—”

Chip cut him off. “I’m **not** through. I’m not happy that a civilian had to defend those two crewmen from you – crewmen you berated as part of your agenda against that same civilian.”

“That civilian stepped over the line,” Bishop spat. “She had no right–”

“She had **every** right,” Chip snapped. “ **You** were the one who stepped over the line – and she knew it. You had no business countermanding my orders to Riley and Kowalski. Doctor Murtagh is here on official Institute business, and Kowalski and Riley were detailed to help her. **You** were the one who violated protocol. That was the last time you’ll do it. I’ll be reviewing your behavior on this cruise after we return to the Institute, and I’ll decide what disciplinary action to take then – and action **will** be taken. And if you **ever** countermand another one of my orders again, I’ll see that you get your walking papers – and believe me, I have enough ammunition and enough power to make that happen.”

Bishop opened his mouth to speak, then thought better of it and closed it with an audible snap. Chip gave him a tight smile and a brief nod. “Are we clear, Lieutenant?”

“Crystal, sir,” Bishop said grudgingly.

“Dismissed,” Chip said.

“But—”

“ **Dismissed** ,” Chip repeated.

“Aye, sir,” Bishop grated out, spun on his heel, then jerked open the office door, coming just short of slamming it behind him as he left.

Chip shook his head, blew out a long breath of frustration, and started pulling his notes together for the disciplinary report.

Halfway through, an idea occurred to him, and he picked up the phone on the desk and dialed the extension in Crane’s cabin.

Lee picked up on the first ring. “Crane.”

“Can you escort Doctor Murtagh to dinner tonight?” Chip asked.

If Lee was surprised, he didn’t let on. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

“Mind if I ask why?” Lee asked.

“I want to make sure that this afternoon’s scene in the tank room isn’t the main topic of discussion at dinner, and I don’t want to embarrass her by doing it in front of her.”

“The XO is laying down the law again.” The satisfaction in Lee’s voice came clearly over the line.

“The less it’s discussed, the better,” Chip said flatly.

“And we don’t want our guest to be uncomfortable, do we?”

“No, **we** don’t.”

“All right,” Lee acknowledged. “I’ll delay her a bit.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Chip said, his tone arid.

“Always happy to oblige, XO,” Crane said, then disconnected.

Chip looked at the receiver, sure he could hear Lee’s soft snicker just before the call terminated. Shaking his head, he went back to his notes.

Once he had them organized, he picked up the phone and dialed the extension of the phone in the Admiral’s cabin. He didn’t want this conversation going out over the 1MC.

“Nelson.”

“Admiral, it’s Morton.”

“Yes, Chip.”

“The Bishop problem is under control. He’s been given direct orders to stay out of the tank compartment, and to refrain from interacting with any of our guests in the future. He’s also been told that the penalty for violating those orders will be very severe.” Chip paused. “My full report will be on your desk after we dock, sir.”

“I have no doubt of that, Commander. I’ll leave this situation in your capable hands.” With that, Nelson disconnected.

Chip let out a breath, hung up the phone, and went back to organizing his notes for the report.

** *** **

The soft rap on her cabin door surprised Lynn just as she was putting the finishing touches on her mascara. Putting her makeup case away, she slipped out of the head, and crossed the few steps to the door.

She was surprised to see Lee Crane in the corridor instead of Commander Morton. She frowned, then reflexively stepped back a pace. “Uh-oh. The captain instead of the XO as my dinner escort. Am I in trouble?”

Crane gave her a wide smile. “No. But can I come in for a moment?”

“Hey, it’s your boat,” Lynn said, stepping back and gesturing for him to enter. “Come on in.”

Lee chuckled and entered the cabin. “Tell that to Chip.”

“Yeah, I knew a few XO’s when I lived in New London,” Lynn said. “They can be pretty territorial.”

“This one’s the worst of them all,” Crane said.

“Are you complaining?” Lynn asked, buckling her watch on.

“Oh, no – he makes my job a lot easier.” Lee paused. “I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Lynn regarded him for a moment. “Have you ever told him that?” she asked softly.

“Wow - you get right to the point, don’t you?” Lee asked wryly.

Lynn shrugged. “It saves me a lot of time. So, have you?”

“Not in so many words, no,” he admitted. “But he knows. We go back a long time. We have an unspoken understanding.”

“I bet that saves a lot of time in an emergency,” Lynn ventured.

“Lynn, you have no idea how right you are.”

She chewed her lower lip briefly. “Um…where is Commander Morton, anyway?”

Lee waited a second before answering. Was that a bit of disappointment he heard in her voice? Studying her eyes, he saw it echoed in the green depths, and he hid his smile. “He had something he had to do, and asked me if I’d fill in for him and escort you to dinner – not that you **need** an escort, but we **are** a full-service boat.”

“Yeah, I’ve gotten used to that little amenity – and I have to say, I like it,” Lynn admitted.

“I’m glad we’re living up to your expectations,” Lee teased.

“Lee, you have no idea how right you are,” Lynn said, echoing Lee’s words to her. “This is the culmination of a dream.” She smiled shyly. “In fact, I keep pinching myself to see if I wake up.”

“I know the feeling. I did that for a month after I took command.”

Lee looked at his watch, and calculated that he’d delayed long enough to allow Chip to give the wardroom whatever instructions he’d intended. Inclining his head toward the cabin door, he said, “Shall we go see what Cookie has in store for us tonight?”

“As long as you don’t expect me to clean my plate,” Lynn said wryly as she headed toward the door.

“Oh, we’re learning that about you,” Lee said as he closed the door behind them.

** *** **

Chip made sure to time his arrival in the wardroom to arrive several minutes before Lee and Lynn would. Standing in the doorway and scanning the officers present, he noticed that Bishop wasn’t among them. Good.

Clearing his throat to attract the attention of the others in the room, he walked to his seat and stood silently until he had the attention of everyone there. “Today’s incident in the tank room will **not** be the subject of dinnertime conversation. Is that clear?” Murmured acknowledgement came from the officers seated at the table. “I’d tell you to keep the men in your departments from discussing it,” Chip went on, “but I know that sub's already submerged.”

“You got that right, XO,” Ray Carter muttered. “All of the guys in my department are ready to canonize Lynn for the way she defended Riley and Kowalski this afternoon. And that includes all of the chiefs.”

“Ray, since two of your guys are the ones Doctor Murtagh stuck up for, it’s not surprising,” Chip said, glad Ray hadn’t been present when Bishop had gone after the two ratings, because that would only have complicated things. An excellent officer with outstanding leadership abilities, Carter was extroverted and even goofy when he was off duty, but on duty, he was all Navy. He took a strong interest in the men in his department, and was very protective of them. In return, the men in his department loved him for his dedication to them. He was tolerant of Riley’s own goofiness, because he recognized that Riley had an incredible natural talent which couldn’t be taught, but which **could** be nurtured – and with that nurturing, Riley would become an outstanding sonarman. Tolerating Riley’s idiosyncrasies was a small price to pay for _Seaview’s_ ultimate benefit, and most of Seaview’s officer complement realized it.

“Now, what’s for dinner?” Chip sat. He picked up the photocopied menu and was scanning it when Lee escorted Lynn to the table.

“I hope you brought an appetite,” Chip said to Lynn, pointing to the menu as she sat in her usual chair next to him. “Cookie has outdone himself tonight.” He noticed that Lynn’s hair was hanging down, free of her usual ponytail, and that she had applied some makeup since he’d seen her last, mentally filing both observations away for later examination.

Lee looked at the menu, then smiled at Lynn. “It looks like Cookie took your sentiments about Italian food to heart.”

Lynn looked over the menu – the soup was pasta fagiole, the salad was Caesar, and the entrée choices were veal parmagian with homemade linguine, jumbo shrimp scampi over risotto, and chicken marsala with roasted potatoes, baby asparagus and red peppers. She looked sheepishly around the table. “Sorry, guys.”

“That’s okay,” Chip said. “Cookie does all three especially well.”

“Just plan on a similar menu tomorrow night,” Lee put in.

Ray Carter snickered. “And the night after, and the night after that, and –”

Lynn held up a hand to stop Ray’s litany. “I get the picture, thanks.”

All through the soup and salad courses, Lynn kept waiting for someone to mention Bishop and his intrusion into the tank room earlier in the afternoon. The more she thought about it, the more mortified she felt about causing a scene, even though she still felt that she had been morally right for doing so. When no one brought the subject up, she realized that it was quite possibly taboo and any discussion on it had been forbidden – she could only guess by whom, but she had a very good idea that it had been Commander Morton’s mysterious errand before dinner.

Dinner passed with no mention of Bishop, to Lynn’s relief. After dinner, the officers split up. One group moved to the piano while another set up the card table for a poker game.

“Do you play poker, Doctor?” Chip asked. “We have room for another player.”

“Yes, but not well,” Lynn said. “I know how to play, but I’m terrible when it comes to bluffing. Do you mind a kibitzer?”

He gestured toward the round table near the door. “After you.”

She sat down and quietly watched them play a few hands. Commander Morton was a talented player, and won hand after hand with a wholly deadpan expression. She envied him that – she usually wore her every emotion on her face, which was fatal in any poker game. She’d inherited more than her affinity for horses and her musical talent from her mother, she reflected.

Lynn’s attention kept wandering to the group at the piano on the other side of the wardroom. _Damn_ , she thought, _Larry’s a nice guy, but he can’t play worth spit._ She excused herself from the poker table and walked over to the piano, the musician in her deeply offended by the tortured sounds coming from the instrument. She realized she couldn’t ask him outright to stop playing, but if she distracted him enough....

Lynn edged her way into the group. Looking down at the piano and watching Larry’s hands move over the keys, she suddenly realized that it was badly out of tune.

“You have a problem, I think,” she said softly. “May I?”

“Be my guest,” Baker said, moving to his right to allow her to get at the keyboard. “It can’t be any worse than what I’m doing.”

Lynn reached past Larry and ran her fingers over several keys. She grimaced at the sound. “Ouch. That’s really bad.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” Baker said. “We can’t keep this thing in tune no matter what we do.”

“It’s the water,” Lynn said. “And the slight pressure changes despite _Seaview’s_ pressurization. It affects the strings. You shouldn’t have an acoustic piano in here. It’ll never sound right.”

“So what can we do?” O’Brien asked.

“Well, you can replace this poor thing with an electronic piano, like a Yamaha, or maybe a synthesizer. That might be an even better idea.”

Baker turned and spotted Chip. “XO?”

Chip looked away from the poker table warily. “What’s up, Larry?”

“The Dolphin Lady’s solved our piano problem.”

Chip raised an eyebrow, made a T woth his hands signifying a timeout, then placed his cards face-down and left the table to join them at the piano. “She has, has she?” he asked, looking at Lynn in amusement. “And just how did she do that?” He slipped his hands into his back pockets and looked down at her expectantly.

Lynn licked her lips. “You’re wasting your time and money trying to keep this poor thing in tune,” she said, laying a compassionate hand on the upright’s wooden case. “You’re surrounded by water, and the strings can’t adjust to the dampness or the slight pressure changes from constant changes in your depth. _Seaview_ is pressurized, but an acoustic piano is even more sensitive to that than a human being. You need something electronic that doesn’t need to adjust.”

“And that, XO, is where you come in,” Baker told him.

“Hmmm.” Chip looked sideways at Lynn. “Since you seem to be the expert here, how much is this going to cost me?”

“Used or new?” Lynn asked.

Chip shrugged. “Either. Or both.”

Lynn chewed on her bottom lip and thought. “That depends on what you want. A new basic-model Yamaha or a Fender Rhodes electronic piano can run you about a grand, and more tricked-out models can run you ten times that –”

“ **How** much?” Chip asked, eyes widening.

Lynn went on as if he hadn’t interrupted. “–but you can get a good electronic keyboard or even a decent synthesizer for about a quarter of that.”

“That’s good to know – it’s more our speed,” he said dryly.

“I’d be happy to help you pick it out,” Lynn offered.

“I bet you’re dangerous in a music store,” Chip teased.

Lynn laughed softly. “Commander, you have no idea.”

“I think I can guess. But I’ll keep that in mind when the time comes,” Chip acknowledged.

Lynn nodded, then excused herself. 

“Where are you going?” Lee asked.

“I have a couple of medical tests to run on the dolphins,” Lynn answered. “I’d...uh...planned to do them this afternoon when Riley and Kowalski were there, but we were...interrupted,” she said uneasily.

“Do you need help?” he asked Lynn.

Lynn looked at him in grateful surprise. “I wouldn’t turn it down.”

“Then you’ll have it,” Chip promised.

“Thank you, Commander. I appreciate it.” Lynn nodded and left.

Chip folded his poker hand than sat back down at the dining table and helped himself to another piece of coconut custard pie from the dessert service in the center of the table. Lee regarded him in amazement – no matter what Chip ate, he never seemed to gain weight. Lee wished he knew the secret to his metabolism. If he could package it, he’d make a fortune. Hell, selling it to the women at NIMR alone would have him set for life.

Chip finished his pie, drained his coffee, and rose. “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” Lee asked.

“To change into my wetsuit,” Chip said casually. “I can’t ask Kowalski and Riley to work around the clock.”

“ **You’re** going to help Lynn?” Lee challenged.

“Why not? Don’t you think I can handle it?” Chip shot back.

“Oh, I think you can probably handle it – whatever it is you’re attempting to handle,” Lee said, a smug smirk on his face. “But I don’t think it’s running medical tests on dolphins.”

Chip plastered a long-suffering expression on his face as he looked at Lee. “Lee, whatever you might think is going on with us, trust me – it’s not.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Lee said. “It might sink in at some point.”

Chip rolled his eyes and walked away.

“See you at our eight o’clock report – whenever you get there,” Lee called after him, then shook his head and poured himself another cup of coffee.

** *** **

Chip went to the dive locker and quickly changed into his wetsuit and dive boots, then headed for the tank room.

Lynn was already there. Dressed in a white and purple wetskin, she stood at the worktable, her back to him. She turned as the hatch opened and Chip stepped through. She displayed momentary surprise, then smiled in welcome. “You’re just a glutton for punishment, aren’t you?”

“I’m always open for a new experience,” Chip assured her.

“Oh, it’s an experience, all right.” She laughed softly, then turned back to her task.

Unconsciously, Chip’s eyes dropped from her face. The closure of her wetskin was unzipped for a distance of about five inches, leading his eyes downward, and Chip could see a few freckles where he had no business looking in the first place. He forced his eyes upward, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

She hadn’t; her attention remained zeroed in on the fish she was cleaning. Her hair was wet, pushed back behind her ears and just this side of disheveled – she’d obviously gone for a quick swim with the dolphins after she’d left the wardroom. Whatever makeup she’d applied earlier was now long gone, and she was up to her elbows in fish guts. Just about any other woman he knew – besides his sister Kate, of course, who was at her happiest while working in a stable – would have been beyond mortified to be interrupted in the middle of such a God-awful mess. But not this one.

“I’d ask you to lend a hand, but you’ve been through this already,” she said, and dropped a gutted fish into the bucket. “Besides, I’m already done with this part.”

“What are you doing?”

“Preparing bribes and rewards.” Lynn took the bucket to the tank and knelt at the short ramp that led out of the water. “Up and out, Max,” she said and patted the ramp. The dolphin obligingly propelled herself out of the tank, chattering as she left the water. “Good girl,” Lynn said softly as she moved to kneel by the dolphin’s side, again wondering that the dolphin had so much faith in her that she would leave the water whenever Lynn asked

As usual, Leo and Sammy took up vigil nearby, expressions of concern in their liquid eyes as they looked at Maxie. “She’ll be okay, guys,” Lynn assured them.

Worried clicks and whistles answered her.

“Can you hand me that blue box from the table?” she asked Chip.

He looked to see a small royal blue case sitting on the worktable and handed it to Lynn.

“Thanks,” she acknowledged as she placed it on the deck, opening it and withdrawing a scalpel, then turned back to Maxie. “This might hurt a bit, baby girl,” she said to the dolphin, “but only for a second.” She deftly nicked the female’s flukes, drawing off a sample of blood. She reached into the blue case and removed a glass slide and a small spray can. She spread the sample on a slide, which she sprayed with fixative and held out to Chip. “Can you hold this, please?”

“Is she sick?” Chip asked as he took the slide, holding it carefully.

Lynn looked at him to see concerned blue eyes regarding her and the dolphin. “Honestly, I don’t know,” she admitted. “The medical tests my brother did a few weeks ago came back just fine and she’s eating well, but she seems a little mopey at times.” She turned back to the dolphin and gave her a shot. “Good girl, Maxie, thank you,” she said, then gestured her back into the water.

“What was the shot for?” Chip asked as he handed her the slide.

“Vitamins,” Lynn explained, replacing the equipment into the blue case and carrying it to the worktable. “I don’t want to take any chances.” She slipped the slide into a plastic envelope, labeled it with a permanent marker, then placed it into a case with a foam liner.

The heavy neoprene wetsuit was making Chip feel hot, and he lowered the jacket’s zipper to mid-chest as he watched her work. Lynn noticed the movement and plucked the sleeve of her wetskin. “You should get one or two of these,” she said. “They’re a lot more comfortable in warmer water or indoors.”

Chip raised an eyebrow. “Purple isn’t my color, Doctor.”

“Oh, but they even come in basic black,” Lynn pointed out with a teasing smile.

“That’s right – you like black,” Chip teased.

“Well….” Lynn shrugged. “I suppose it has its uses – like in hunt and dressage coats. And a jet-black horse is to die for.” She grinned at him. “But where dive gear is concerned, wild colors are a lot more fun.”

“So I’ve noticed.” He looked at his watch. “Can you carry on alone?”

“Sure. Duty calls?”

Chip heard a note in her voice that he interpreted as disappointment. “My evening meeting with the captain.”

“Ah.” Lynn nodded, then turned and leaned back against the worktable. “Your eight o’clock report. I can imagine what you’ll be discussing. That topic was noticeably absent at dinner.”

“It will be handled,” Chip said softly.

“And I should keep my big mouth shut,” Lynn said wryly.

“I don’t think the odds on that are very good,” Chip said, smiling to take the sting from his words.

Lynn threw a wipe rag at him. “G’wan, get out of here. I don’t want the captain blaming me for you being late.”

 _Blaming isn’t all he’d do_ , Chip thought, but he kept that to himself. “Aye aye, Doctor.” He grinned, tossed her a jaunty salute, and left.

** *** **

Lee showered, finished brushing his teeth, and dressed in a gray Naval Academy tee shirt and navy blue sweatpants to wait for Chip to arrive. They normally used this time to go over what had occurred during the day, but they also used it to wind down, to relax, and to simply enjoy their long friendship.

Tonight, though, they had a serious problem to solve. Bishop.... He’d always been a problem. Chip had very little patience with Bishop. The lieutenant was not his idea – or Crane’s idea, either – of a good leader. Not quite a plankowner, Bishop had come aboard shortly after _Seaview_ had been commissioned, as one of John Phillips’s recommendations, having been a division officer in the navigation department on Captain Phillips’s final at-sea command before he’d gone on to his final shore tour as the commanding officer of a submarine squadron operating out of New London.

Bishop was extremely competent in the technical aspects of his job, but when it came to handling the crew, his leadership and interpersonal skills were sorely lacking. Chip had called Bishop in for numerous counseling sessions over the last few years, to try to get him to temper his attitude toward the crew. But Bishop, one of the most self-righteous, self-centered, and inflexible men Lee had ever met, wouldn’t – or couldn’t – change. After the disaster in the minefield that had sent _Seaview_ to the bottom years earlier, Chip’s solution had been to detail another officer as Officer of the Deck whenever Bishop had the navigator’s post, and to limit his interaction with the crew and any visitors at other times. So far, it had worked.

Until today.

Lee heard a swift rap on the door – three minutes before the hour. Lee grinned – Chip was early, as usual. “Come.”

Chip entered the cabin. Though he wasn’t wearing a tie – which was surprising in and of itself – he looked as crisp and creased as he always did, but seemed a little more…relaxed…than usual, and Lee attributed that to the brief interlude he’d just spent with the dolphins – or their caretaker. He filed that away for future use. Chip sat down, crossed his legs, and braced his clipboard on his knee.

“Agenda?” Lee asked.

Chip shrugged. “Mostly routine. One large unresolved matter.”

Lee nodded. “How do you propose to handle it?”

Chip shook his head. “Our talk this afternoon seems to have settled things – for now. He’s been told to stay out of the tank room, and that I’ll be reviewing his behavior after the cruise and deciding what disciplinary action to take – and that action **will** be taken. I also told him that I’m not happy that a civilian had to defend two crewmen he was berating to promote his own agenda against that same civilian.”

Lee nodded. “How did that go over?”

“About the way you’d expect.” Chip snorted. “He’s not happy that Kowalski and Riley were rescued – or who they were rescued by. He’s been told his attitude toward her is utterly irrelevant – and if he ever tries to countermand one of my orders again, there **will** be hell to pay.”

Lee shook his head wryly. “He hasn’t learned not to mess with you yet, has he?”

“He has **this** time,” Chip said flatly.

“Was there much bloodshed?” Lee asked with a teasing glint in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to get any on my uniform – it’s **so** hard to get it out,” Chip said, then smiled. “It was only a matter of time – Doctor Murtagh just happened to be in the right place at the right time to be the catalyst. I’m just sorry she had to defend two of our own against one of their officers.”

“The crew liked her before but they’ll idolize her now.” Lee shook his head. “A civilian who’d do battle with an officer over a couple of enlisted men? She’ll have a solid gold rep by breakfast tomorrow.”

“If she doesn’t have one already,” Chip told him.

“I’ll say one thing – with Lynn on their side, Kowalski and Riley don’t need anyone else.”

“She certainly had a lot to say about Bishop,” Chip muttered.

“Oh?” Lee asked, leaning forward. “Care to enlighten me?”

Chip shook his head. “It was nothing we haven’t already said ourselves.” He narrowed his eyes. “Well. there was one thing….”

“Which was?” Lee asked.

“She called him an _Arschloch_. To me, in private, not to his face,” Chip hurried to add.

Lee frowned. “Is that German?”

Chip nodded. “She’s fluent.”

“Does it mean what I think it means?” Lee asked. 

“It certainly does.”

“Wow,” Lee said. “She’s full of surprises, isn’t she?”

“That she is,” Chip agreed.

“Does Lynn want to lodge a formal complaint?” Lee asked, concern lighting his hazel eyes.

Chip shook his head. “No, she’s going to rely on my rather abundant talents in that arena.”

Lee nodded. “She has good taste.”

“Now what’s that supposed to mean?”

Lee fixed an expression of studied innocence on his face. “Why, who better to write the report than the master of paperwork?”

Chip rose and walked for the door. “You need another vacation. Good night.”

Lee chuckled as the door closed behind him.

** *** **

With the dolphins settled, Lynn decided to go to bed early. She headed for her cabin, where she took a long, hot shower, washing her hair thoroughly to remove the last vestiges of salt water.

As she brushed her teeth, she found her thoughts drifting to – where else? – Commander Morton. She kept reminding herself that he was a borderline co-worker, an associate if not quite a colleague, and that there was nothing more than friendship between them.

Lynn thought back on what Riley had said – they **had** gotten pretty close, and in a relatively short period of time, too. She liked him – to be honest, she liked him a lot. And she could tell he liked her, too. The only problem was, she wasn’t sure how much he liked her. Although from what she’d heard, she wasn’t his type, anyway. He possessed a high degree of charm and unbelievable good looks and she was thinking about him entirely too much. His reputation made her uneasy, though her common sense – and Angie – told her a lot of it had to be just plain fantasy. Oh, she’d heard the stories – he tended to go through women at an alarming rate. And even if Angie disavowed them, it was bad news to get involved with a co-worker, she reminded herself once again. Co-worker? Once in a blue moon, maybe, but it could still be trouble.

She put these thoughts out of her mind and forced herself to concentrate on her book. She read for a while, then punched the pillow into a comfortable shape and drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
>  Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
>  Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
>  Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
>  Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
>  CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
>  Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
>  Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
>  Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
>  Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
>  Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
>  Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
>  Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
>  Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
>  Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
>  Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
>  Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
>  Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
>  Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
>  Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
>  Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
>  Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
>  Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
>  Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
>  Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


	9. I've Yet to See the Woman Who's Immune to That Smile and Charm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

Lee and Chip were already seated in the wardroom when Lynn arrived for breakfast. “Today’s the day, huh?” she asked.

Chip nodded. “We’ll be docking at the Osbourne Institute and picking up Doctor Danson at ten-hundred,” he said.

“Then we’ll dive tomorrow?” Lynn asked.

“Yes,” Lee said, and nodded. “That will give Danson a chance to get his sea legs and to get acquainted with you. And your dolphins,” he added.

Lynn sent him an self-conscious smile. “I must admit, I’m curious about him.”

“You can satisfy that curiosity later today,” Lee said.

Lynn shrugged. “I suppose. I won’t mind showing my dolphins off.”

“Let’s hope your prize pupils behave themselves,” Chip said dryly.

“From your lips to God’s ears, Commander,” Lynn said. “I just hope Doctor Danson doesn’t insist on wearing a hat in the tank room.”

** *** **

Lynn was in the tank room with the dolphins, listening to music and making notes on the behavior of the dolphins as the music played on hydrophones in the tank when it came time to dock in Monterey. When the dolphins started squealing a greeting, she looked up from her notebook to see Kowalski bearing down on her.

“What’s up, Ski?”

“The Admiral sent me to get you, Doc,” he said. “We’re on final approach to the Osbourne Institute and he’d like you to come up to the control room.”

“Oh. Thanks, Ski.” Lynn rose from the deck, brushed off the seat of her jeans, slipped her notebook into her briefcase, and followed Kowalski forward.

Nelson was seated in the nose, watching _Seaview’s_ progress toward the Osbourne Institute’s dock. He rose as Lynn approached. “Sit down, Lynn. Coffee?” he asked, as he filled a cup with the NIMR logo.

“Yes, please, sir.” She took the cup, nodded her thanks, and sat in a chair facing the viewports. “This never fails to amaze me,” she said softly. “It’s just....” She stopped and shook her head. “I honestly don’t have the words to describe it.”

Nelson nodded and smiled. “Yes, sometimes words fail me, too – and I hope they always will.” He gestured out the viewports. “We’ll be docking soon – if you look off to starboard, you can see Osbourne’s dock.”

Lynn craned her neck to look in the direction Nelson had indicated. “I...think I can see it. By those low white buildings?”

“Yes. I believe that’s their dolphin facility.” Nelson regarded her for a moment, then said, “Lynn, I wanted to speak to you before our guest arrives. I know you have some experimental equipment on board. You’re not to mention any of it to our guest,” he instructed.

“No, sir,” Lynn said, shaking her head emphatically. “I have no intention of it. That’s nobody’s business but ours.”

“Good.” Nelson nodded, then rose and walked to the chart table. _Seaview_ was gliding majestically into the dock, and Lynn vaguely registered the orders being relayed behind her in the control room as Mark Videtti, the Officer of the Deck for this watch, conned the submarine, keeping her attention on the view from the huge windows as _Seaview_ came alongside the long concrete pier.

She could see some activity on the pier, but it gradually moved out of her field of vision as _Seaview_ moved into position to dock. She turned then, facing the control room.

She deposited her empty coffee cup on the tray, then walked through the control room, joining Chip and Lee where they stood with Nelson at the periscope island. Chip was leaning on the railing, his chin on his interlaced fingers. “You’re leaning,” she said softly.

Soft they may have been, but her words reached Crane’s ears, and he gave a soft laugh. Chip glared at him, but straightened, shoving his hands into his hip pockets.

Crane looked from one to the other. Chip and the marine biologist were standing side by side, their stances identical – hands in hip pockets, arms akimbo. He took a quick look around. No one else had seemed to notice. He shook his head, smiling wryly.

Larry Baker was the first down the sail ladder, and Lynn assumed he’d gone topside to escort the new arrival, who followed right behind him. Lynn watched a pair of chino-clad legs appear on the ladder, descending with the confidence of one used to the sea.

Kowalski’s voice came over the 1MC. “Captain, all of Doctor Danson’s gear has been brought aboard. His dive gear is on the way to the dive locker and his personal luggage is on its way to his assigned cabin.”

“Very well, Kowalski,” Lee said.

Baker was shepherding the new arrival forward as they turned their attention to him. “Doctor Danson, this is Admiral Nelson, Captain Crane, _Seaview’s_ skipper, Commander Morton, _Seaview’s_ exec, and this is Doctor Murtagh.”

“Yes, we’ve met,” the man said. “It’s so nice to see you again.”

“We have?” Lynn asked, startled into a backward step. She took a minute to look him over – medium height and build, dirty-blond hair and stormy grey eyes. She certainly didn’t recognize him – how could he be so sure they’d met? She frowned; being caught off guard like this annoyed her.

“Yes, in Santa Barbara. You and – Commander Morton?” he asked, turning slightly to look back at Chip, “ran into me in a restaurant earlier this week. Quite literally, in fact. You knocked a package out of my hand.”

Lynn’s eyes flew to Chip, who looked at Danson, then back to Lynn, shrugging and shaking his head. “That was **you**?” she asked.

“Yes. I was on a spur-of-the-moment trip to visit friends in Santa Barbara.” He smiled. “I’m sorry we didn’t have a chance to get better acquainted at that time, but I had a long drive home. Pity. We could have spent a lovely evening together.”

“That’s kind of a long drive on an impulse,” Chip said, his tone arid.

Danson looked at Chip as if he were no more than an annoyance. “An impulse is an impulse,” he said dismissively, and turned back to Lynn. “But, no harm done. Nothing was damaged. Least of all me.” He turned a wide smile on Lynn as he finished.

“Glad to hear it,” Chip said dryly.

“No more than I, Commander.” He looked away from Chip, effectively dismissing him. “I’ve heard a great deal about your dolphins, Doctor. Your program has so much promise,” Danson said with a wide grin, putting a familiar hand on Lynn’s shoulder. “I’m looking forward to hearing more about it.”

She stepped back, closer to Chip, pointedly shrugging Danson’s hand off her shoulder as she did. “Yes, it does – thanks to Admiral Nelson’s support and the facilities at the Institute.”

“But neither one would mean anything without your talent,” Danson said effusively.

Lynn looked over to Nelson, trying to convey her discomfort at Danson’s familiarity.

The Admiral nodded slightly, taking his cue. “Yes, we’re quite proud of Doctor Murtagh’s work,” Nelson said, stepping forward. “Her ideas **are** quite promising, and they’re working out quite well in practice. We’re very lucky to have her on our team.”

Lynn’s surprised gaze flew to Nelson’s face at his words, which were more than she’d expected. He winked at her, and she reflexively looked back at Chip, unsuccessfully trying to hide her smile. He gave her a quick smile back, then patted her shoulder in an “attagirl” gesture. Lynn unconsciously moved closer to him as he did.

Danson seemed to ignore the interplay between them. “High praise, Doctor,” he said, giving Lynn a broad smile. “My compliments.”

“That it is,” Lynn said, looking back at Nelson. “Thank you, sir.”

“I’d like to see the dolphins now,” Danson said to Lynn. “Shall we?”

Lynn looked over to Nelson, deferring to his status and judgment. “Sir?”

“Right this way, Doctor,” Nelson said to Danson, and gestured to Lynn to precede them from the control room.

“Wish me luck,” Lynn said softly to Chip and Lee, and led the way aft out of the control room.

As they left, Lee and Chip returned to the chart table. Lee took in the disgruntled expression on Chip’s face as he looked down at the chart, and couldn’t resist taking a dig at his best friend. “I can’t wait to tell Kate that the great stone heart has finally cracked. The invincible one has fallen. She won’t believe it, either,” Lee said, shaking his head.

“What are you talking about?” Chip demanded, knowing the best defense was a good offense. He decided to try condescension. “Sometimes, Lee, I swear—”

Lee ignored him. “I’m talking about you, my friend. You and that green-eyed redhead who just left to show another person her dolphins – another **male** person, who apparently has every intention of getting to know her better - a **lot** better – which obviously doesn’t sit too well with you.”

“Strawberry blonde,” Chip said without thinking.

“See what I mean?” Lee challenged.

“You’re being ridiculous,” Chip said, hoping he sounded casual.

“Am I?” Lee shot back. “I don’t think so.”

“There’s nothing between me and Doctor Murtagh,” Chip asserted.

“Not yet, maybe,” Lee allowed. “But give it time. I’ve yet to see the woman who’s immune to that smile and charm.”

“Can it, Lee,” Chip muttered.

“Not a chance, Chip.” Lee grinned. “Come on.”

“To where?” Chip asked, though he thought he already knew.

“The tank compartment, of course.” He spun on his heel and headed aft, a frowning Chip on his heels.

** *** **

Lynn was quiet on the way down to the tank compartment. She relied on first impressions a lot, and her first impression of Doctor Terrence Danson wasn’t very favorable. His friendliness felt forced, too personal, as if he felt he needed to win her over quickly. And she didn’t care for the familiar way he’d touched her shoulder. She allowed Nelson to carry the conversation, speaking only when spoken to.

Kowalski and Riley were already there, preparing breakfast for the dolphins. Lynn walked over to join them at the worktable, leaving Nelson with Danson at the side of the tank.

“This the guy, Doc?” Kowalski asked.

“So he says,” Lynn said softly.

“He doesn’t look so special,” Riley scoffed.

“He thinks he is,” Lynn muttered. Despite their questioning expressions, she shook her head and said no more, but gestured to them to follow as she walked over to Nelson and Danson. She joined them just as the hatch opened and Lee and Chip entered the compartment.

“Doctor?” Nelson prompted.

Lynn nodded, then stepped to tankside and called the dolphins over. The dolphins looked up at the humans observing them. Sammy screeched at Danson, then chattered at length to Lynn before sinking down and swimming to the far corner of the tank. Leo and Maxie made their own comments, then followed Sammy, and all three hung in the corner, facing away from the humans who looked on in surprise. Lynn’s mouth hung open in consternation.

Chip stepped up to her side. “What’s going on?” he asked, _sotto voce_. Jerking his chin in the direction of the dolphins, he asked, “What’s with them?”

“Besides making me look like a fool? I wish I knew,” Lynn replied. “This is embarrassing.”

She looked around at the men in the compartment – Chip looked puzzled, Crane looked amused, and Nelson wore an air of expectant tolerance. Kowalski looked dumbfounded, and Stu Riley started to laugh, but ceased abruptly at a quelling glare from Chip. Lynn called the dolphins to her again, but they ignored all of her commands. Finally, she clapped her hands and whistled, and the three of them swam to the side of the tank with ill grace.

“Doctor Danson—”

“Please, call me Terrence.”

Lynn continued as if he hadn’t spoken. “Doctor Danson, these are the Nelson Institute dolphins. Sammy, Maxie, and Leo. They’re usually quite well behaved. I don’t know what could have gotten into them this morning.”

“These dolphins are quite fine specimens, Doctor,” Danson said pleasantly. “My compliments.”

Lynn bridled – now she had a concrete reason for her vague antipathy toward the man. “They are no more specimens than you or I, Doctor,” she snapped. “I’d appreciate it if you’d remember that.”

“You feel rather strongly about this, I take it?” Danson asked.

Lynn recoiled at the oiliness she heard in his tone. “They’re living, breathing, sentient beings, Doctor. **Specimens** are found in museums and culture labs. The Nelson Institute is neither – we’re trying to advance our understanding of the seas and the life within.”

Chip listened to their exchange in silence. He was surprised at the underlying vehemence in Lynn’s voice, which emerged despite her level tone. He shot a glance over to see Nelson's reaction; while the Admiral's face showed no reaction, his eyes registered approval of Lynn's statement.

“But what else would they be but specimens?” Danson asked. “They’re certainly not human.”

“If you can’t see that these animals have intelligence and feelings, maybe you’re in the wrong profession.” Lynn turned on her heel and left the compartment.

Nelson slipped his hands into his trouser pockets and started after her thoughtfully, while Chip and Lee exchanged startled glances.

“Commander?” Nelson said, looking pointedly at Chip.

“Excuse me, Admiral,” Chip said to Nelson, then hurried after her.

He caught up to her in the corridor a fair distance away – anger-fueled steps had taken her a good distance forward from the tank compartment. “Pretty strong words from an impartial researcher, Doctor,” he said as he fell into step beside her.

“Impartial? **Me**?” Lynn asked wryly. “Have you **met** me, Commander?”

“You’re right – you’ve always made your feelings plain about those dolphins,” Chip told her.

“Specimens,” Lynn spat, then looked up at him and shook her head. “I hate that word. It implies that they’re...I dunno, part of a collection or something, that any others would be just as good. Like a piece of Belleek or Waterford.”

“Your Irish is showing,” Chip pointed out.

She gave him a half-hearted smile, then sighed. “I see them as individuals and I get angry when others don’t. Oh, hell, maybe I’m the one in the wrong profession. If I was training horses, no one would care if I loved them.”

“Or maybe your profession needs more researchers like you – someone who cares about the animals she works with instead of seeing them as subjects of an experiment,” Chip said softly. “I kind of like that about you.”

Lynn gave him a wan smile. “Nice sop to my ego, Commander.”

“I didn’t think you were the insecure type, Doctor,” Chip said dryly.

“Oh, you’d be surprised at how insecure I can be.... I feel caffeine calling me. Join me?”

Chip heard the uncertainty in the invitation, and knew he couldn’t turn it down. One cup of coffee couldn’t hurt. Besides, it felt good to feel needed. “Sure. Let’s go get you caffeinated.”

The wardroom was empty of officers when they arrived, but Sam Gardner, one of the crew on mess specialist duty, hurried over when he spotted them. “XO, Doc – can I get you anything?”

“Want a bite to eat?” Chip asked.

Lynn shook her head. “I don’t think I could,” she admitted. “Not now. I don’t think I could even swallow anything.”

“Just coffee, please, Gardner,” Chip said, and shepherded Lynn to a table as Gardner hurried off to the galley pass-through.

Lynn shook her head. “Days like this make me I wish I’d become a plumber. I feel like I’m walkin’ around with a black cloud hangin’ over my head. I can’t seem to do anything right,” she grumbled. “And the Admiral must think I’m a real whack-job after the way I stormed out of there. Oh, kill me now – because he sure as hell will once he catches up with me.”

Chip shook his head. “The Admiral is the one who sent me after you.”

“He did?” Lynn asked in surprise.

Chip nodded. “He’s used to talented people who lose their tempers from time to time, so don’t worry about that. And after your encounter with Lieutenant Bishop, I can name two crewmen who don’t think you can do any wrong,” he said dryly.

“Oh, yeah – that was a great little performance. The marine biologist from hell.” Lynn stared off toward the bulkhead and fell silent, crossing her arms in front of her stomach in a self-protective gesture.

“Doctor?”

Lynn gave him an inquiring glance. “Hmmm?”

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

Lynn looked at him in surprise. “Yeah – why shouldn’t I be?”

“The look on your face when you met Danson.” His tone hardened. “And the way you moved away when he put his hand on your shoulder.” He carefully didn’t mention that he’d been just as quick to notice the way she’d moved closer to him when he’d been the one to pat her shoulder moments afterward.

“Ya caught that, huh?” she asked ruefully.

“I get paid to catch things like that.” Chip told her – but he very carefully didn’t tell her he noticed a lot more about her than he was required to, especially those bright green eyes that took in everything around her.

Lynn shrugged in acknowledgement. “Yeah, well, something about that guy isn’t quite kosher.”

Chip lifted one eyebrow dubiously.

“I may tend to make snap judgments about people, Commander, but I’m very rarely wrong.”

“Body language again?”

Lynn shrugged. “Body language, intuition, bad vibes – whatever you want to call it. I’m getting all three from this guy. And I bet the dolphins will have the same reaction to him the next time they see him.”

“I have a feeling I shouldn’t take this bet,” Chip teased as Sam came to the table with a large carafe of coffee and two mugs, plus a plate of fresh donuts.

“The donuts are fresh, XO – and Cookie wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Thank you, Gardner,” Chip said. “And thank Cookie for us.”

“Yes, thank you – they look delicious," Lynn said.

“You’re welcome, sir, Doc,” Gardner said, and nodded acknowledgement. “Enjoy. I’ll be at the pass-through if you need anything else.”

Chip waited until Gardner had returned to the pass-through, then asked, “Now – where were we?”

“Deciding whether you were going to take me up on the bet,” Lynn said, biting into a chocolate-iced donut.

“Ah, yes. I don’t know if I should or not,” Chip said, a teasing gleam in his eyes as he bit into a glazed French cruller.

“But you will.” Lynn smiled confidently.

“Do I have a choice?” Chip asked.

“Not really.” She licked chocolate icing off her fingers.

“I thought you weren’t hungry,” Chip teased.

Lynn smiled sheepishly. “When he brought them over, I felt like I had to eat one, but these donuts are really good. ”

“They usually are.” Chip favored her with an easy smile. “Tell me – what are the stakes on this hypothetical bet?”

“Well, if I win, you have to listen to me yammer all through dinner.”

“I do that anyway,” Chip pointed out. “What do I get if you lose?”

Lynn cocked her head to one side. “And if I lose, you can tell me to shut up.”

“I don’t know,” Chip said, shaking his head. “I’m not sure I’d want to collect.”

Lynn’s eyes widened in surprise. “You **like** listening to me ramble on?” she asked in amazement.

Chip tapped the ball of this thumb against his lips before speaking. “You tend to bring up…unique…subjects.”

“Yeah, right.” Lynn snorted. “Weird, you mean.”

“That’s another way of putting it,” Chip acknowledged. “But you **do** tend to hold my attention.”

Lynn’s eyes lit with surprise. “I **do**?”

“All the time,” he assured her.

“Who’da thunk it?” Lynn asked, then shook her head ruefully. “Danson probably thinks I’m a real flitbrain, but I don’t care. I don’t care to have my dolphins insulted.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms over her chest again. “They’re intelligent animals, entitled to retain their dignity. I don’t teach them tricks – I augment and amplify natural behavior. It’s a lot like dressage, just in another medium.”

“You might have a tough time fitting a saddle on one, though,” Chip pointed out.

Lynn smiled wanly at his joke, but said nothing, clearly lost in her own thoughts.

He could sense her withdrawing. “You want to clarify that?” he asked to keep her talking and focused instead of feeling sorry for herself. "Maybe so an engineer can understand?"

She looked back at him, meeting his gaze squarely. “Sure. Dressage is nothing more than a horse’s natural movements performed at a rider’s cue. No more, no less. I just transferred the idea to my dolphins.”

“So you pretend your dolphins are horses?”

Lynn looked at him to see sparkling blue eyes filled with kindness looking back at her from across the table. He was trying to cheer her up, and she blessed him for it. “Not really. Like you said, it would be tough to fit a saddle on one.”

“So what **do** you do?” Chip asked. “How do you find common ground with what’s essentially an alien intellect from an alien environment?”

Lynn was startled briefly by his understanding, then she regrouped. “I study their natural actions to see which can be beneficial to my training program, then figure out how to utilize them, and how to present things to them in such a way that they understand what I need from them. It’s a lot more work for me than it is for them. They’re my partners, not my slaves. And I think I’ve allowed them to retain their dignity.” She sighed. “I **see** them think, I **see** them make connections. When Maxie understands, I mean **really** understands, you can see it in her eyes. Sammy’s whole attitude changes when he masters a new task. And Leo picks things up faster than either Sammy or Maxie. And then Danson comes in and acts like they just don’t matter, that they’d be interchangeable with any other dolphin.”

“To him, they don’t matter,” Chip pointed out. “They’re just three more specimens.”

Lynn frowned at him. “You know, Commander, you’re really good at playing devil’s advocate.”

Chip smiled at her. “It’s a dirty job, but somebody has to do it.”

“But you enjoy it,” Lynn accused.

“I enjoy making people think,” Chip rebutted. “And **you** enjoy thinking.”

“Yeah,” Lynn admitted, “but I enjoy thinking about pleasant things.”

“Like your dolphins, and how intelligent they are.”

Lynn nodded. “And the feeling I get when they do just what I want them to do – it’s the same feeling I get when my gelding does a particularly difficult dressage movement and does it just right.” She gave him a shy smile. “I get the same chills.”

“It’s good to know you’re happy in your work.”

“Melville said to never forget your childhood dream. I’m living mine – well, one of them, anyway,” she said, then raised her mug for the dual purpose of taking a sip of coffee and hiding behind it.

“And very lucky to be doing so, I’d say.”

Startled, she looked over her mug at him. She hadn’t realized how much he’d colored the empty spaces she didn’t even realize existed in her life until she’d met him. _Calm down_ , girl, she warned herself. _This is nothing to get excited about._ She ignored the soft mental snicker she heard.

Chip looked directly at her as Lynn glanced over her mug at him and their eyes locked. Lynn had no idea how she looked at that moment, but she’d never been very good at camouflage. Too often her face – especially her eyes – gave her away. She saw a strange expression steal into his blue eyes and at that moment, she knew she’d unwittingly given something away. But what? She wasn’t sure, and Chip obviously wouldn’t tell her. But she saw the little smile that quirked the corners of his mouth before it was hidden as he raised his own mug to his lips.

His smile told her something had changed between them. That was when she realized he’d begun to watch her as a man watches a woman when he’s interested in her. Lynn wasn’t sure when it had happened, or how she felt about that. She was flattered, but she was also confused.

But there was something so tempting about him, like slipping into the pool to play with the dolphins when she was supposed to be running tests on them. _Face up to it, kiddo_ , she told herself. _Despite who and what he is, despite the fact that you work with him, you **are** attracted to him. Physically and emotionally. Admit it._

Playing for time, she refilled her mug, attempting to regain her composure after that realization. “Well, I don’t have to like him – I just have to dive with him. Once. He’s not my idea of a permanent dive partner. Or a temporary one, for that matter.”

“No?”

“No.” Lynn shook her head. “I need someone I can trust – and I already have one.”

Chip raised his mug to her. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“You’re welcome. Like I said, there’s something not quite kosher about him.”

Chip drained his coffee cup and rose. “I have to get back to the control room. But don’t worry, Doctor – I’ll watch your back on the dive.”

Her smile lit up her face. “I never had any doubt you would, Commander.”

“See you at lunch.” He gave her a smile that contained confidence and something more, something unidentifiable, then left.

Lynn watched him go, trying to comprehend her chaotically swirling thoughts and emotions. At that moment, she could think of nothing she’d rather do than spend some time with him. He was witty, charming, dryly funny, supremely confident, talented in his very demanding job, and easy to spend time with because for all that, he never took himself too seriously. He didn’t seem to be put off by her intelligence, either – one more point in his favor. He certainly didn’t seem to fit the conception most people had about him. He was a nice guy and seemed to be genuinely interested in her work. He asked intelligent questions, listened to her answers, and never seemed to be bored when she rambled on about subjects that held no possible interest for him.

He was easy to like. Too easy. And he was too easy to get used to having around. But that was dangerous – she knew if she fell for him, she’d fall hard. He was far too appealing to too many facets of her personality. It would be very easy to give in, especially if she allowed her overactive imagination free rein. And she also knew that if she fell hard, she’d probably get hurt badly. Besides, what was to say he’d ask her out anyway? And she couldn’t see herself asking him for a date. That wasn’t her style.

Things were getting complicated beyond belief. First Bishop, then Danson, and now she found herself being drawn to an emotionally unavailable man who had a reputation for collecting hearts like charms on a bracelet.

She’d gotten used to seeing him pop into the tank compartment at all times of the day. She didn’t expect to see him during the morning, when she knew he was in the control room. As the executive officer, he wasn’t required to stand a watch, but she knew he did because he liked to keep an eye on things and keep the younger officers on their toes.

But he always showed up at noon or just before, ready to escort her to the wardroom for lunch, and he dropped in several times during his afternoon rounds, usually staying a while to chat. But he was a friend, nothing more. But that was nothing new. She’d always had a lot of male friends; it was a side effect of having brothers and male cousins, and working in a male-dominated specialty. She enjoyed talking to him and wondered if their relationship – such as it was – would continue after she left _Seaview_. But she didn’t have an answer to that question.

She took the coffee mugs, empty plate, and thermal carafe to the galley pass-through, then returned to her dolphins.

** *** **

Lee was at the plot table when Chip entered the control room. “Is Lynn all right?”

Chip nodded as he surveyed the chart for the current position. “Disgruntled. Embarrassed about her outburst in the tank compartment.” He lowered his voice. “Did the Admiral say anything?”

Lee shook his head. “He seemed amused by the whole thing. He took Danson off to one of the labs – once Lynn left, the dolphins headed for the other end of the tank and ignored them.”

“Amused, huh?” Chip asked. “That should make Doctor Murtagh feel better. She was pretty worried about the Admiral’s reaction.”

“She looked more than worried,” Lee pointed out.

Chip tapped his pencil against his slide rule. “She’s annoyed about Danson. She doesn’t like his attitude toward the dolphins.” He frowned and shook his head.

“That was a little obvious, Chip,” Lee said dryly, handing Chip their current course report.

“There’s something about that guy,” Chip said, frowning.

“Says who?”

“According to Doctor Murtagh, there’s something ‘not quite kosher’ about him,” he said, mimicking Lynn’s accent perfectly.

“Oh,” Lee said with a short laugh. “I thought for a moment it was your opinion.”

Chip didn’t look up from his work. “I’ll accept Doctor Murtagh’s word on this one.”

Lee looked up at the overhead and shook his head, then speared Chip with an accusatory gaze. “Do you realize you’re the only officer on this boat who doesn’t call her Lynn? What’s with you?”

“It’s called professionalism,” Chip said dryly.

Lee snorted in derision. “I could tell you a few other things you could call it, but you wouldn’t like any of them.”

“All the more reason for you to keep your mouth shut.” Chip glared at Lee and left the control room on one of his never-ending inspections of the submarine.

** *** **

Chip entered Seaview’s library, ascertained that he was alone in the room, then leaned a hip on one of the tables, staring at the shelving area but not seeing it.

Lee was right.

There was no use denying it any longer. The feelings of camaraderie he’d felt for Lynn Murtagh right from the beginning were mutating into something very different, something far stronger.

He didn’t know exactly when his feelings had begun to change, and it really didn’t matter. He’d never act on them as long as there was a chance that Lynn would turn up on _Seaview_. And with the direction of her research – and with Lucius’ backing – the chance that she’d turn up on Seaview were very good indeed. No, he could never act on his nascent feelings.

He could hear his late mother’s voice. _Never say never, Christopher. You don’t know what life will bring_. She’d said that over and over again when he was growing up. And circumstances had usually proven her to be correct.

He tried to shake it off – dating someone you worked with so closely was bad news. He’d dated several of the women on the Institute’s clerical, administration, and scientific staffs in the past, as well as a number of visiting scientists, or journalists doing pieces on NIMR or on Admiral Nelson. They all had one thing in common – they were interested in having a good time, but weren’t looking for anything permanent. That suited him perfectly.

But he didn’t have to work closely with any of them, and they certainly didn’t turn up on _Seaview_ from time to time! His one short-lived relationship with a woman who did, Katie Leydon, had soured quickly – she was too hard, too cold, too grasping, too much a predator for his taste. She’d made no secret of her desire to get back together with him, but Chip had no intention of resuming that particular relationship. It had left a bad taste in his mouth and taught him too many hard lessons that he didn’t care to relive again.

But Lynn? None of the women he’d met or become involved with over the years had attracted him quite like this one. In the past, he’d chosen carefully, dating women who knew what they were getting into and who were willing – often more than willing – to accept a relationship on his terms. He’d never promised them anything beyond the moment, because he’d known he could offer nothing more due to the demands of his career. He’d never let any woman get this close emotionally before, except Angie Pierce and his sister Kate. He’d never let anyone else get to know him, never gotten to know them in more than a cursory way.

But he felt as if he’d known Lynn all his life. He wasn’t sure just when he had stopped thinking of her as a scientist and started seeing her as a woman. Maybe he always had....

It was becoming increasingly difficult to maintain his customary emotional distance from someone who was as warm and open as she was. How had she slipped past his guard to tempt him this way? Was it the way she smiled so easily, her courage when the shark had attacked them, or the way she had damped down her fear immediately after the attack to check on the dolphins who’d saved their lives?

Or was it simply the person she was? The warm, open, enthusiastic woman who derived so much pleasure from beating Bobby O’Brien at his own game, the gentle woman who so obviously loved her dolphins, or the outraged woman who’d defended two seamen to their superior officer? Whatever the cause, it could be very dangerous. No other woman had affected him so thoroughly, so easily, and without any conscious effort on her part.

And if she knew how she made him feel, she’d probably run like hell in the opposite direction.

Ah well, it was a moot point anyway. Pursuing her was unprofessional and entirely out of the question. He’d keep things friendly but professional, and definitely on the friendship part of that invisible boundary.

Chip left the library and continued on his rounds.

** *** **

Lynn and the off-duty officers were already seated in the wardroom waiting to be served dinner that evening when Baker arrived with Danson. Baker sat in his usual seat at Lynn’s right; Danson took the seat across from him and smiled across at Lynn. “Nice ship you have here, Captain – what I’ve been allowed to see of it, that is. And it’s so nice to see you again, Doctor.”

Chip felt Lynn tense beside him. He was about to speak when Lee smoothly joined the discussion.

“I’m sure you understand our security concerns, Doctor Danson. We can’t be too careful,” Lee said in a pleasant but firm tone. "And we're a boat, not a ship."

Danson nodded. “Yes, yes, I understand. But I **am** disappointed.”

“Tough,” Chip muttered, low enough for only Lynn and Lee to hear.

“I’d also hoped to spend more time working with you, Lynn – may I call you Lynn? – but it seemed that you were very busy this afternoon. It was very disappointing.”

Lynn licked her lips uneasily. “Commander Morton is my dive partner when the dolphins and I are aboard _Seaview_. He and I work with the dolphins every afternoon.”

Danson raised an interested eyebrow. “I would have liked to watch that.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not possible. The tank room is kept off-limits to any and all visitors during the training sessions. Audiences only distract the dolphins,” Chip put in. “Right, Doctor?”

“Exactly.” Lynn felt so relieved at his comment she could have kissed him – and hurriedly damped down on that impulse before it got her into trouble. **Big** trouble.

“Oh, so your dolphins are temperamental?” Danson asked; his tone seemed pleasant, but there was an obvious undercurrent of snideness to it.

Lynn straightened in her chair. “I won’t even bother to dignify that with an answer, Doctor,” she snapped.

Sensing the direction the conversation was taking and determined to change it, Lee pulled the dinner menu to him. “Italian again,” he said, looking over at Lynn with a teasing smile. “That stuffed veal you liked so much is the other night is on the list, and the other two entrees are Italian, too.”

“You’d better clean your plate,” Larry Baker warned with a smile. “You know what Cookie will do if you don’t.”

Lynn ducked her head. “Will I ever live this down?”

“Only if we let you,” Chip said. “And I don’t see that happening any time in the near future. We’re having too much fun with that minuscule appetite of yours.”

“I don’t have a minuscule appetite,” Lynn protested. “I just don’t eat like a lumberjack the way you all do.”

“So you like Italian food?” Danson asked. “We have some wonderful Italian restaurants in Monterey. Perhaps I could show you some time.”

“I don’t get up north much,” Lynn said quickly, trying to hide her discomfort with the attention Danson was paying to her. It was entirely unprofessional, not to mention unwarranted. She tried to remember if she’d behaved toward him in any way he could possibly have misconstrued, but couldn’t come up with anything.

“Doctor Murtagh has a lot to keep her busy in Santa Barbara,” Chip said.

“Yeah,” Bobby O’Brien muttered. “Memorizing every song on every radio station in a hundred-mile radius.” He looked over at Lynn with a quick grin and a quirked eyebrow, then winked. “I’ll get you one day, my pretty,” he said, in a credible impersonation of the Wicked Witch of the West.

“I look forward to seeing you try,” Lynn said, seizing on his teasing like a lifeline.

“Oh, but it would be worth your while,” Danson pressed. “I’d see to it that you’d enjoy yourself.”

Lynn visibly shrank back in her seat and Lee and Chip shared a glance. “I’d have to think about it,” Lynn said and looked at the menu.

“I bet I know what you’re getting,” Chip said to Lynn.

Next to him, Lee shook his head. “There are only three choices, Chip,” he pointed out. “You don’t have much to choose from.”

“There could be ten choices on the list, and I’d still know what she was getting,” Chip said smugly.

“I **could** just change my order, you know,” Lynn pointed out.

Chip pursed his lips and shook his head slowly. “You wouldn’t.”

“You’re right – I wouldn’t,” Lynn admitted. “All right – you’re on. What am I ordering? But you have to tell me how you know, too.”

“Okay,” Chip said. “The stuffed veal.”

“And your reason?” Lynn prodded.

“Because the last time it was on the menu, you ate like it was your last meal on this earth. Now, we’ve all eaten enough meals with you to know you don’t normally eat like that. Therefore, if it’s on the menu again, you’ll order it,” Chip said confidently. “Besides, Cookie put it there because you enjoyed it so much – and you don’t want to hurt his feelings."

Lynn gave Chip a long, considering look, then pursed her lips thoughtfully. Then she smiled and nodded. “When you’re right, you’re right.” She looked over at Lee, who had been watching her every move and expression with a knowing smile. “He’s good,” she told him.

“Yes, he is – and he knows it,” Lee agreed, which made Chip grin widely.

“I’m beginning to realize that,” Lynn said wryly, before giving Chip a quick smile.

“Where is Admiral Nelson?” Danson asked. “Won’t he be joining us?”

“He’ll be dining in his cabin this evening – he has work to do,” Crane said simply.

“Oh?” Danson asked. “Anything interesting?”

“That would be classified, Doctor Danson,” Crane said. “As so much of our work is.”

Danson started to answer, but Sam Gardner came to the table to take their orders. Chip gave the mess specialist his order, then looked over at Danson, who was regarding Lynn with a speculative, considering expression. Chip thought it was almost malevolent, but then he chastised himself for letting his imagination run away with him. But the scientist’s attitude toward Lynn was puzzling. She certainly wasn’t acting like she was available, and she was doing her best to ignore his advances toward her. Chip resolved to keep a close eye on the situation, and told himself that he was doing it as her liaison rather than out of a sense of jealousy.

Dinner passed slowly. The rest of the officers picked up on the undercurrent of unease at the table, and did their best to act as buffers between Lynn and Danson throughout the meal. She didn’t know why he was acting like this, but she was very glad of their intervention.

“He makes you very uncomfortable, doesn’t he?” Chip asked as they walked to the seating area for the after-dinner movie.

Lynn nodded. “Commander, you have no idea. He’s coming on to me, and I don’t like it – and I don’t understand it, either. This is neither the time nor the place, even if I was receptive to his advances – which I’m definitely **not**.” She frowned. “I don’t get it. Did I act like I was interested in him at any point??”

“No,” Chip told her with a frown. “Definitely not.”

Lynn looked at him with a puzzled frown. “Then why is he doing this?”

“I don’t know. What you need is protective coloration,” Chip said softly. “If he thought you were involved with someone….”

“That might work,” Lynn said, nodding.

“But that someone would have to be present and visible,” Chip pointed out. “A boyfriend back on shore wouldn’t cut it – he’s too persistent.”

“You’re right,” Lynn agreed, chewing her lip. “So much for that idea.”

“I can play the part – if you want,” Chip offered.

“You would?” Lynn looked up at him with a startled expression in her green eyes. “You wouldn’t mind?”

Chip shook his head. “Not at all.” He grinned. “Think of it as duties related to my liaison status.”

Lynn smiled back. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” He swept his arm toward the couch. “Shall we?”

Lynn nodded. She sat at one end of the leather couch, thus insuring that the only person able to sit next to her would be Chip. He sat alongside her, close but not touching.

Danson approached, pulling a chair behind him. “Mind if I join you?” he asked, placing his chair next to Lynn without waiting for an answer.

Chip shrugged and placed his arm along the back of the sofa behind Lynn. “Suit yourself.”

“Staking out your territory, Commander?” Danson asked softly.

Chip shrugged again. “As long as I get my message across.”

“Message received.” Danson rose, dragged the chair back to the dining area, and seated himself in one of the easy chairs in the seating area, a distance away from Chip and Lynn.

“It worked,” Lynn whispered. “Thanks.”

“My pleasure,” Chip whispered back. “It’s always nice to come to the rescue of a lady.”

“This lady hates needing to be rescued,” Lynn said softly.

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Lee Crane sat in his usual chair, set diagonally to and just ahead of the couch where Lynn and Chip sat. He noticed the leg that Chip had crossed toward Lynn, and the arm he had so casually rested along the back of the couch behind her. True, he wasn’t touching her, but this turn of events made Lee feel distinctly uncomfortable. It was very unlike Chip to allow his feelings to intrude on his professional life. Could this be the result of Danson’s advances toward Lynn? Lee wouldn’t even allow himself to consider that his benign teasing had prompted this aberrant behavior on Chip’s part.

He kept his eye on them throughout the movie. They talked in low tones throughout, ignoring the movie, for the most part. Lynn’s low laugh and Chip’s deeper chuckle carried over to him from time to time. True, they often laughed together, but this time, it sounded different. The timbre of Chip’s laugh seemed more intimate, while Lynn’s had a forced, slightly nervous quality. But the smiles they exchanged seemed genuine enough.

He often caught them glancing over at Danson, who didn’t seem to notice. No one else seemed to notice, either, and Lee wondered if he could be imagining things. Then he noticed the expression on Chip’s face, and knew he was imagining nothing. There was something real there – and he wondered why Chip had chosen now, of all times, to express it.

** *** **

The movie was short, and O’Brien didn’t seem inclined toward a game of Name That Tune. Chip caught Lynn trying to stifle a yawn as the gathering broke up.

“Tired?”

“A little,” Lynn admitted. “I didn’t sleep very well last night.” She shifted position and caught sight of Lee Crane’s face. He wore a watchful, disapproving expression, one which transmuted to a carefully neutral mien when he realized that Lynn was looking at him curiously. Had he caught on to Danson’s game? Or did he think Chip was acting unprofessionally? She decided to ask him and straighten out any misconceptions he might have.

“We have a big day tomorrow – you’d better get some rest.” Chip rose from the sofa. “I’ll walk you to your cabin if you’re ready to leave.”

Lynn looked at him uncertainly, and remained seated. “Um...you go on. I need to speak to the captain for a moment. But I’ll see you at breakfast, okay?”

Chip frowned at her briefly, then nodded and smiled. “Sleep well.”

“I will. You too.” She waited until he was gone, then rose and turned to Lee. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

His frown matched Chip’s, and he looked briefly toward the wardroom door. “Problems?”

“Kind of.” Lynn sighed. “Can we talk on the way to my cabin? There will be fewer ears that way.”

“Certainly, Doctor,” Lee said, and gestured for her to precede him from the wardroom. “Now – what problems are you having?” he asked as they walked forward to Officers’ Country.

“None yet. But I don’t want any.”

Lee nodded gravely. “I understand. I’m sorry it had to come to this. I’ll speak to Chip. He won’t cause any problems.”

Lynn stopped walking and shook her head firmly. “No, Lee, that’s not what I meant! Please don’t think Commander Morton overstepped his bounds. He was just doing what I asked him to do.”

Lee frowned and stuffed his hands into his front pockets. “Maybe you’d better explain.”

Lynn sighed heavily. “You saw how Doctor Danson was coming on to me at dinner, and I was uncomfortable with his behavior earlier today, when he came aboard. He’s too familiar. So…I asked Commander Morton to run interference for me.”

“To pretend that you two have a – relationship, you mean.”

She nodded. “Well...yeah, sort of. For some reason, Danson thinks we’re a...couple...and we thought that encouraging him to think that would get him to keep his distance.”

“I see,” Lee said thoughtfully. “It seems to have worked pretty well.”

Lynn nodded. “Oh, it worked, all right. And then I saw the expression on your face and I knew you’d gotten the wrong idea, and I couldn’t let you go on thinking that. I couldn’t let Commander Morton get in dutch with you for helping me out.”

Lee smiled. “I **did** get the wrong idea. I should have realized that Chip was merely playing a role.” _But one he seemed to relish,_ he said to himself.

“I’m just glad he went along with me,” Lynn said as they stopped at her cabin door.

Lee’s smile softened. “He’s a good man, Lynn, and he can be a good friend. And he has a big soft spot for you.”

Lynn’s eyes widened in surprise, but she quickly masked any further reaction to his statement. “He’s been very kind and very helpful to me, Lee,” she said in an offhand manner.

Lee decided to play along with the game. “We all try to make our guests feel welcome.”

“You succeed, Captain. You really are a full-service boat.” Lynn smiled and opened the door. “Good night. Please remember what I said?”

“It’s branded in my memory.”

Lee watched her enter the cabin, waiting in the passageway until he heard the bolt of the lock slide home, then proceeded to his own cabin a few yards forward. As he entered his quarters, he allowed a wide grin to spread across his face. This was more ammunition to use in his never-ending campaign against Chip.

And such tasty ammo it was, too.

** *** **

Thoughts of Doctor Murtagh paraded through Chip’s head as he prepared for bed. He’d enjoyed their little play in the wardroom – pretending to be involved with Doctor Murtagh to protect her from Danson’s advances hadn’t been at all difficult. Frankly, it had felt quite natural. She hadn’t seemed to find participating in their little game difficult, either.

 _This is crazy,_ he told himself as he brushed his teeth _. You can’t get involved with her. Besides, she’s never given you any encouragement at all._

Still, there were times with she looked at him with that speculative gleam in her eye as if she were seeing past the uniform, past the ever-helpful liaison – the ever-helpful liaison who really didn’t have that much to do, truth be told. She didn’t ask for much – he had a very strong feeling that Lynn Murtagh hated to admit that there was anything she couldn’t do for herself.

 _Lynn_ _, huh?_ he asked himself and wondered what her reaction would be if he dared address her in that way. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it, any more than she seemed able to address him as anything other than Commander.

 _Strange situation we have here,_ he thought as he pulled down the covers and climbed into his rack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
>  Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
>  Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
>  Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
>  Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
>  CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
>  Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
>  Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
>  Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
>  Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
>  Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
>  Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
>  Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
>  Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
>  Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
>  Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
>  Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
>  Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
>  Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
>  Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
>  Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
>  Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
>  Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
>  Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
>  Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen  
>  Dr. Terrence Danson Patrick Fabian


	10. Console Yourselves That You Will Die Together.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A simple mission to test skills learned by the Nelson Institute's bottlenose dolphins has serious consequences for Chip Morton and one of NIMR's dolphin researchers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ally published as a standalone zine by Criterion Press, May, 1994

Chip was already seated in the wardroom and was busily going over department head reports when Lee arrived for breakfast. “Lynn and I had an extremely informative chat after you left last night,” Lee said, pulling out his chair.

“Oh?” Chip asked. “How nice,” was his dry reply.

Lee nodded. “I never knew you were a Boy Scout. It just doesn’t fit the playboy image.”

Chip rolled his eyes and looked toward the galley pass-through and back again, but remained silent, studiously checking papers on the clipboard against the pile of reports alongside it.

“She was very appreciative of the way you came to her defense,” Lee went on.

“Doctor Murtagh asked for a favor.” Chip shrugged, not looking away from his clipboard. “I complied. It was as simple as that.”

“You went far beyond a favor, my friend,” Lee pointed out.

Chip looked up from his clipboard and met Lee’s eyes. “Is this an official reprimand?” he asked softly, his expression neutral.

Lee shook his head. “Oh, no. No, Lynn made it very clear that you acted at her request. She was very emphatic about that.” He shrugged. “But I told her not to worry. I also told her that you have a big soft spot for her.”

“I have a what?”

“A soft spot. I didn’t tell her it’s in your head,” Lee said pleasantly.

Chip snorted. “If I do, it’s a product of my years of unfortunate association with you.”

Lee grinned, unaffected by the insult. “Still, I think it’s interesting that she’d suggest that you two pose as a couple to ward Danson away.”

Chip cleared his throat and looked back down to the clipboard.

“Lynn **did** suggest it, didn’t she?” Lee asked quickly.

“Not exactly,” Chip mumbled.

“ **You** suggested it?” Lee asked in amazed delight.

“Not exactly that, either,” Chip repeated uneasily.

Lee huffed in exasperation. “What, **exactly** , happened?”

“It was a mutual decision,” Chip asserted. “We both came up with it at the same time.”

“Really?” Lee’s grin widened. “That’s even better.”

Chip took a deep breath. “And why is that?”

Lee’s eyes lit up with an unholy glee. “It proves there’s a mutual attraction.”

Chip’s mouth dropped open at that comment, but he quickly recovered. “You never quit, do you?”

“Of course not,” Lee said. “Quitting is no fun.”

** *** **

Before breakfast, Lynn walked down to the tank room and readied her dive equipment for the dive later that morning. Her two-piece bathing suit, wetsuit and dive boots were all ready and waiting in her cabin, but she wanted to make sure the rest of her equipment was together, ready to go. Then she pulled out the receiver that would enable Sparks to monitor the sensor’s transmissions, slipped it into her jeans pocket, and left for the wardroom and breakfast.

Lee and Chip were already at the table when she arrived. Both men rose as she approached; Lee pulled out her chair for her while Chip rolled his eyes and shook his head as he looked at the overhead.

“Thank you, Captain,” Lynn said, reaching for her empty mug. Before she could pick up the thermal carafe to fill the cup with coffee, Lee had picked it up and filled the mug for her.

“Thank you again.” Lynn grinned at both men. “My, what service.” She placed the receiver on the table near her plate and reached for the menu.

“We aim to please. I told you – we’re a full-service boat,” Lee said. “Today’s the big day. Are you ready?”

Lynn put the menu down and exhaled forcefully. “I’d better be.”

“You’re late – what did you do, sleep in?” Chip asked.

“I was awake before oh-five-hundred,” Lynn said wryly, then shook her head. “I don’t know how to sleep in. Farm kid, remember? No, I went down to see the dolphins, and to get this.” She reached past Chip and moved the small silver piece of equipment to a spot in front of Lee’s place setting.

“What’s that?” Chip asked.

Lynn looked at him. “It’s a receiver. It plugs into the communications equipment and Sparks can monitor any transmissions from the miniature sensors in the regulators. Would you give it to him, please?”

“Certainly,” Lee said, looking it over. “Very compact.”

Lynn took a long swallow of the coffee, following it with another long draught. “Oh, that tastes so good. Yeah, the electronics labs take pride in making our toys smaller and smaller.” She picked up the mug again, draining it.

“Yes, we know – they love to get us to test their toys, too. Refill?” Lee asked. At Lynn’s nod he took the thermal carafe from the center of the table and refilled her mug before topping off his own. He ignored Chip’s glare.

“Looking forward to the dive?” Lee asked.

Lynn shook her head. “Not really. Not with Danson along. I’m not that comfortable with him.”

“I’d think you would at least have something in common to talk about,” Lee ventured. “And you’d be safe enough, especially if your camouflage is working.”

Lynn sent a swift glance in Chip’s direction. He raised one eyebrow, then smiled reassuringly.

“My camouflage has been working pretty well since last night, thanks to Commander Morton,” Lynn allowed. “And I think our profession is **all** Doctor Danson and I have in common. I don’t really like him. He’s too cold-blooded.” She swirled the coffee around in her mug. “My dolphins aren’t specimens.”

“We know,” Chip and Lee chorused.

“Yeah.” Lynn shook her head ruefully. “Sorry about that, gentlemen.”

“Never apologize for your convictions,” Chip said, not caring that Lee was listening avidly. “Especially when they’re as strong as yours.”

“Good advice, Commander.” Lynn raised her coffee cup to acknowledge the wisdom of his words. “Thank you.”

The rest of the off-duty officers filtered into the wardroom, taking their places at the tables and chatting idly as they ate. Chip and Lynn ate lighter breakfasts than usual, in deference to their dive later that morning. To Lynn’s relief, Danson didn’t put in an appearance at all.

After breakfast they all scattered – the officers to their various duties, and Lynn to the tank room, where she fed the dolphins a light meal, far less than their usual breakfast. That put the three on notice that they’d be working that day, and their excitement level rose.

“Calm down, gang,” she chided. “It’s just the same old routine. You could do it in your sleep by now – if dolphins slept, that is.”

She knew everything was ready, but she had to do something or go nuts. She spent the rest of the morning puttering around the tank room, making preliminary notes for her report, and inspecting the equipment for the dive again. They were scheduled to dive just before noon, and she found that the time was dragging. Finally, at the edge of her patience, she left for her cabin to change into her wetsuit.

** *** **

Lee came down the spiral staircase into the control room and looked over the watch list on Chip’s clipboard. “The dive is scheduled for twelve hundred hours?” he asked.

“Hmmmm,” Chip responded absently, deeply engrossed in a course calculation.

“I’ll take over. You go get ready.”

Chip looked at his watch. “It’s only eleven-fifteen. I have plenty of time.”

“Ah, but you know how the good Doctor Murtagh is about schedules. Like you, she’s always early, and I’m sure she appreciates the same in her partners – her dive partners, that is. And you might want to get there before Danson does, too.”

Chip favored Lee with a frown. Lee’s tone was calm, even, but despite the logical points Lee had made, Chip knew he was being baited. He schooled his features into his most inscrutable expression, and nodded. “Aye, sir.”

He made his way to the dive locker, where he quickly changed into his wetsuit and dive boots. He checked his tank and regulator, noting that the status tag on each had been signed by Kowalski, and he smiled. Kowalski’s signature on a tank was nearly a one-hundred-percent guarantee that it was in perfect condition, its readiness checked and rechecked. He shouldered the tank, took his dive fins and mask from his locker, and set off for the tank room.

At the sound of the hatch, Lynn looked up to see Chip enter the tank compartment, laden down with his equipment. “Nobody has the right to look that good. **Nobody**!” Lynn muttered to herself and quickly looked away. “Even in a putrid Yum-Yum Yellow wetsuit.”

“Do you always talk to yourself?” Chip asked pleasantly as he walked up to her.

Lynn jerked her head up at the sound of his voice, and she hoped he didn’t realize she’d been talking about him. “All the time,” she said flippantly. “I get the right answers that way.”

She unfolded herself from the deck and walked over to him to help him place his dive gear with hers. “I guess you hear grass grow, too.”

Chip gave a low laugh. “That’s an interesting way of putting it.”

Lynn shrugged. “That’s what my mother and Angie say about me.”

“You’re close to Angie?” Chip asked, not wanting to let on that he already knew the answer.

Lynn nodded. “Yeah, we are. We hit it off as soon as we met. It felt like we’d known each other forever.” She shook her head ruefully. “She’s another one who hears grass grow.”

“It goes with the job,” he said with a smile. “In my case, it’s a tool they issue to every XO, along with our clipboards.”

“Is that how they do it?,” Lynn asked innocently. “I’ve been wondering.”

“Now you know.” Chip inclined his head toward her. “I think that wetsuit is louder than the one you wore last time.”

Lynn looked down at her royal purple and coral wetsuit. “It’s new. Like it?”

“ ‘Like’ is such an inadequate word when it comes to your wetsuits….” Chip said, then gave her a smile. “Do you look for the most outlandish patterns you can find?”

“How’d you guess?” Lynn looked from her wetsuit to Chip’s and back again. “Standing next to each other, we look like a sunrise, sort of.”

Chip shook his head with wry humor. “Doctor, you have a unique way of looking at life.”

“Yeah….” Lynn let the word out on a sigh. “And thank you for not referring to it as ‘weird’.” She set her hands on her hips and looked over at the dolphins, who drifted near the edge of the tank, their soft exhalations a soothing backdrop. “Oh, boy.”

“What’s the matter? What are you worried about?”

Lynn shook her head, filing away the fact that he’d recognized she was worried for later consideration. “Nothing, really – not about the dolphins, anyway. This is just a rehash of the last test, and they did just fine then.”

“Then what’s bothering you?”

“Something doesn’t feel right,” she said uneasily.

“Danson?” Chip asked.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. I can’t quite put my finger on it.” She chewed on her lower lip then looked up at him. “It’s just a feeling.”

“I told you I’d watch your back,” Chip reminded her.

“I know, and Commander, I appreciate that more than you know. I’m just being silly.” She turned back to the dive gear and made a show of checking both tanks, examining the regulators, and inspecting the hoses, along with the thin leads from the sensors to the battery packs to make sure they were connected properly, and well-secured along the length of their air hoses.

“How do they look?”

Lynn gave him a sheepish smile. “As good as they should. It’s all busy work. It’s better than pacing, I guess.”

The hatch opened again and Nelson entered, Danson behind him. Kowalski and Riley entered as well, and moved to their positions by the airlock controls.

“Doctor, are you ready to show what your dolphins can do?” Nelson asked.

Lynn nodded, her mouth suddenly dry. “Yes, sir – we are.” She turned to the piles of dive gear and found Chip already there, holding out her weight belt. “Thanks,” she said, and gave him a grateful smile.

“Don’t mention it.” He fastened his own belt, then reached for his tank. Lynn moved behind him as he shrugged it on, inspecting all connections as he fastened the harness snaps, and rechecking the connection to the battery pack. She strapped her knife onto her right leg, then moved away to pick up her buoyancy vest, but Chip took it from her and helped her slip into it, performing a safety check as she closed the fastenings.

“I’m not used to all this chivalry, you know,” she said in a low voice.

“Like Lee said, we’re a full-service boat, Doctor,” Chip said, completing his safety check. “You’re good to go.”

“Yeah – and you’re spoiling me,” Lynn said as she he came around to stand in front of her.

“It’s been my pleasure to do so.”

Lynn smiled up at him. “I never thought I’d admit it, but it’s been nice being spoiled.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Lynn noticed that Riley was assisting Danson with his gear. “Thank heavens for Stu,” she muttered.

“I’ll relay that to him,” Chip said. “He volunteered to assist Danson, by the way.”

“Why?” Lynn asked, giving Chip a puzzled frown.

“Oh, word got around that Danson makes you uncomfortable, and he wanted to be a buffer. You’ve gotten to be pretty popular around here, Doctor.”

Lynn nodded. “I’ll have to thank him.” She looked over in Riley’s direction. The strawberry blond rating looked over at her and winked. Lynn returned his wink, gave him a quick smile and a thumbs-up, then turned her attention back to her gear.

Lynn picked up her mask and fins and walked to the edge of the tank. Chip followed close behind her, and together they waited for Danson to join them. Danson seemed quieter, less intense, but Lynn still felt uncomfortable around him. The dolphins started yelling when they recognized him, but quieted down at Lynn’s firm command.

Chip cleared his throat and elbowed her gently in the ribs. “You win.”

“Told’ja I would.”

They washed out their masks in the water, then eased into the tank one by one, first Lynn, then Chip, and finally Danson. The dolphins didn’t move far from Lynn, again interposing themselves between Lynn and Danson, and complaining if they thought he was too close to her.

Lynn clapped her hands. “Hey! Settle down, now. We have work to do.”

The dolphins quieted and obeyed Lynn’s command to dive. She lowered her mask and dove after them, with Chip and Danson right behind her. The lock cycled to green, and they swam inside, then out as soon as the outer hatch cycled to green.

Once outside, they checked their regulator mikes. When they were satisfied they could hear each other, Chip nodded to Lynn. “It’s all yours, Doctor.”

Lynn nodded acknowledgement and signaled the dolphins to stay. When the divers began to move off, the dolphins followed, chattering loudly and crowding around Lynn. Lynn again signaled them to stay, but they again disobeyed. She sent an exasperated glance in Chip’s direction, then swam back toward _Seaview._ The dolphins gleefully followed, cavorting alongside her. Once back at _Seaview_ , she again ordered them to stay. She reinforced the order with a gentle touch to each one, and again gave the hand signal before swimming off. The three dolphins, disgruntled and agitated, nevertheless obeyed.

Lynn swam back to the two men. “Sorry.”

“What’s the testing protocol, Doctor?” Danson asked.

“We’ll swim a distance away, and then I’ll use the pager on my belt to call the dolphins. Response times are extremely swift.”

“You lead, Doctor,” Chip said quickly. “I’ll follow, and Doctor Danson can bring up the rear.”

Lynn nodded. If Danson didn’t like the arrangement, he said nothing to contradict it, merely nodding in agreement.

They swam off, heading away from _Seaview_. Lynn took the lead, swimming effortlessly. Chip fell in behind her, about five feet to the rear and a bit off to her right; Danson followed along about ten feet behind him. There was something wrong, but Chip couldn’t quite identify it. He watched Lynn as she swam; she seemed to feel it as well, her normally graceful movements hurried and jerky.

He didn’t like having Danson behind him. It made him feel far too vulnerable, but he felt it was necessary to remain between Danson and Doctor Murtagh.

In the lead, Lynn stopped then and turned, looking back past the two men who followed her gaze toward _Seaview_. A few hundred yards away, the massive grey submarine was a mere smudge in the distance, the light from her viewports glowing like a beacon that beckoned weary travelers home, and she smiled behind her regulator at the sight.

“I think this is far enough,” Lynn said as Chip and Danson joined her. “I can—”

Her words cut off as Danson moved behind her, reaching down to grab her knife from the sheath on her leg. He straightened, grabbed onto her buoyancy vest to secure her in place, reached forward to wave the knife in front of her face, then placed the tip at her throat.

Lynn tried to catch sight of Danson without moving her head, but it was difficult to see any of him. The wide frame of her mask blocked her peripheral vision and she could barely make out his murky figure through the cloudy silicone frame.

Chip was easier to see. He hovered almost directly in front of her and even through the masks that separated them she could see that his blue eyes had taken on a diamond hardness as he looked past her toward Danson.

Chip felt the cold chill of panic race along his nerves before settling in his stomach and he hurriedly damped it down. He had to remain calm and clear-headed to get them out of this situation. He gauged the distance between him and Lynn, noting how close the knife was to her throat.

“Now, now, Commander, you’ll never reach her in time. I can have this knife – nicely sharp, too, Doctor, my compliments – through her jugular vein long before you can reach her.” He reached down and pulled the pager off its lanyard, letting it fall. “We can’t have you calling your disobedient grey friends to the rescue, now, can we? Provided, that is, they would even bother to show. They’re probably off cavorting somewhere.”

Chip briefly watched the pager on its descent to the sea floor far below and fought the rage that welled up inside him. _Calm, stay calm – there’s a way out of this, but only if you use your head._

Danson was still speaking when Chip turned his attention back to him. “It was unfortunate that you two had to see me at the restaurant the other day. If you hadn’t, you would not be in this situation. . But now you will die out here, alone.” His voice was tinny, cold. “Console yourselves that you will die together.”

Danson reached into his dive vest and pressed a stud on a small plastic case that was secured to his vest with a D-ring. “You’ll both be dead – and I’ll be long gone.”

 _Play for time,_ Chip thought. _Distract him_. “Gone? Gone where?”

“I have no intention of hanging around here, Commander,” Danson said on a laugh. “Not after I kill the two of you.”

Chip thought his voice sounded rusty and weak, and endeavored to force some strength into it. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why? Because I can.”

“Listen, let her go,” Chip said, trying to sound as reasonable as he could. “She’s no threat to you.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. You’re **both** threats to me. And you both have to be eliminated.” He gestured with the knife. “Ladies first.”

** *** **

Naval officers aren’t supposed to take things like attacks on their commands personally. But Lee Crane wasn’t your typical naval officer. A threat to _Seaview_ and her crew was a direct insult to him, and he did his best to insure that _Seaview_ – and he – maintained the upper hand at all times. That was the reason he felt so frustrated and so angry, now. “Get a dive party out there now,” he snapped to Chief Sharkey. “Get Danson. And get the XO and Doctor Murtagh back here in one piece!”

“Aye-aye, Skipper,” Sharkey acknowledged. Snagging the nearest mike, he spat out orders to Kowalski to assemble an armed diving team, then took off aft at a dead run.

The confrontation unfolding outside continued to hold the attention of the duty watch in the control room. Lynn still hadn’t said a word. Chip’s voice, while outwardly calm as he attempted to reason with Danson, held a small tremor of anger easily recognizable to those who knew him.

“Sparks?” Lee called. “Do you have a bearing on that transmission yet?”

“I’m working on it, Skipper,” came the reply.

Lee felt his frustration increase. His best friend and a woman he’d come to think of as a friend were in mortal danger and all he could do was listen, twiddle his thumbs, and wait.

“Skipper,” came Sharkey’s voice over the 1MC, “diving party’s ready to go.”

“Who’s in charge?”

“Kowalski.”

Crane felt a surge of hope at that – Kowalski was one of the best divers aboard. “Kowalski, take the party out and wait for a bearing,” he ordered. “Keep your mike open and report anything you hear.”

“Aye, sir,” Kowalski replied.

In the background, Crane could hear the burbling of water filling the missile room airlock, followed by various clanking and hissing sounds as the dive party left Seaview.

“Skipper?” Kowalski said moments later.

Crane could hear odd chirping and shrilling sounds in the background. “Is there something wrong with your mike, Kowalski?”

“No, sir. That’s the Doc’s dolphins. They’re still here.”

Lee remembered what Lynn had told him of the test criteria. “They should be. Doctor Murtagh instructed them to wait for her signal.”

“But they seem kinda upset, Skipper.”

Lee frowned, digesting this. Could the dolphins somehow know of the danger their caretaker was in? Or were they just agitated by her absence?

“Stay with them, Kowalski, until we get a bearing,” Lee ordered. “But if they go – you follow.”

“Aye, sir.”

** *** **

Lynn was terrified. Her instincts screamed at her; her muscles tensed for fight or flight. But with that knife at her throat, she could do neither.

She forced herself to remain calm, to remain rational, and to try to figure a way out of the situation. She didn’t see one, but she had to stay cool, ready for whatever might come. She took a deep breath, and as she did, her tongue rasped against the sensor strip on the regulator. It had worked most of the time in test sessions, but there had been a few instances where it simply hadn’t begun transmitting. _Please, God, let it work this time_ , she prayed, and started biting down hard on the mouthpiece.

She kept breathing deeply, but slowly. If Danson followed through on his threat to cut her airhose, she wanted to have her bloodstream well-saturated with oxygen. But she didn’t want to hyperventilate, either.

Chip saw the fear in Lynn’s green eyes. She seemed to be clenching her jaws in a convulsive manner. Then he realized she was biting down on the regulator to signal the dolphins. He hoped the sensor worked. If it didn’t, they were in deep trouble.

Danson seemed unaware that their conversation was being heard back on _Seaview_. Chip watched him carefully. _He must think that the mikes only transmit among the three of us. He can’t possibly know that Lee is readying a dive party right now._ But that dive party would need to be able to find them. Sparks would need time to trace their signal and vector the dive party to their location. Chip would have to keep Danson talking.

** *** **

The control room watch listened in growing frustration to the scene being played out somewhere outside.

Suddenly the background noise was filled with excited chattering and squawking. “Skipper! The dolphins just took off!”

“Follow them!” Lee ordered.

“Skipper!” Sparks called. “Doctor Murtagh’s regulator alarm just went off. And I got a bearing on that transmission.”

“Good,” Lee said, and then he listened in growing horror as Danson again began to speak.

** *** **

Danson didn’t seem to notice Lynn’s movements. The intermittent release of bubbles from her regulator seemed to first distract, then annoy him. He looked at Lynn’s dive knife, then very calmly sliced through her airhose.

“That was easy. One down, one to go,” he said calmly.

Chip looked on in horror. “Danson, you son of a bitch.”

“Sticks and stones, Commander. And I have the knife. Would you care to try to take it from me?”

Chip again gauged the distance between him and Danson. Danson had a knife; he didn’t. And Danson had a shield – Lynn. The odds weren’t good, but Chip had no choice.

And Lynn – she’d stopped clenching her jaws on the regulator. Her eyes were wide and frightened, and he knew he had to move soon or she’d be dead. She was obviously holding her breath, but how long could she last? They weren’t rising in the water column, but remaining at a steady depth, so she wasn’t in any danger from holding her breath. He looked down at his dive watch – she’d said she could stay under on one breath for about three-and-a half minutes – but would help arrive before then?

He’d just started to move on Danson when two grey shapes streaked past. Danson, startled, shifted into a defensive position, moving the knife away from Lynn’s throat. Chip reacted immediately, pulling Lynn out of Danson’s grasp and down and out of the way.

Two of the dolphins spiraled around Danson, confining him, yet staying well out of the way of his knife. A third dolphin hovered in front of Chip and Lynn, chattering anxiously, nudging them gently.

Chip pulled the regulator from his mouth and handed it to Lynn. She took the regulator with shaking hands and released the breath she’d been holding before sucking down a lungful of sweet air. As she took that first breath, Chip realized that he’d been holding his breath right along with her, and he forced himself to exhale.

When she attempted to return the mouthpiece, he shook his head firmly, holding the regulator to her mouth, forcing Lynn to take another breath. She took it, inhaling less deeply than before, then held the regulator out to him. Chip took it, watching her closely. She nodded and gave him a weak smile. He forced himself to relax, to breathe slowly when he took the regulator back.

The diving party arrived, hot on the flukes of the dolphins. “Mister Morton, are you okay?” Kowalski asked, his eyes widening in shock that mutated to anger as he saw Lynn’s airhose, tattered and hanging free. “Doc?”

“We’re okay now, Kowalski,” Chip assured the rating. He looked at Lynn, who nodded weakly and gave Kowalski a shaky thumbs-up.

Kowalski looked over toward Danson, whom the two male dolphins still held in custody. “We’ll take care of him, Mister Morton. Do you need help?”

“I think we’ll be okay, Ski,” he said after he took back the regulator. “You get Danson. And be careful – he still has Doctor Murtagh’s knife.”

Kowalski’s eyes hardened behind his mask. His gaze darted to Lynn, again taking in the severed airhose. He looked back at Chip and nodded. “We’ll be careful.”

Chip reached for Lynn’s dive computer, which dangled from her dive vest. They were eighty feet down, and they’d been out too long to make a non-stop free ascent from that depth without risking the danger of the bends. With the two of them buddy-breathing from his tank, Chip knew it would take too long to get FS-1 out for a rescue. Chip looked at Lynn as the dolphin nudged Lynn worriedly. “We have to get you back aboard, and fast.”

Lynn nodded, pointing at Chip, then herself, then made the “buddy up” signal by extending her hands toward him, palms down, her index fingers together and pointing at him. Then she pointed at the third dolphin, whom Chip recognized as Maxie, back toward herself and Chip, then she pointed off toward Seaview. Chip nodded in understanding, and passed her the regulator.

“She can do it,” Lynn said before she handed the regulator back.

“All right – let me check in with the captain.” Chip cued his mike. “Lee?”

“Are you two all right?” Crane asked immediately, and Chip could hear the angry edge in his voice.

“We’re fine now,” Chip said, hoping he sounded reassuring. “Doctor Murtagh says Maxie can bring us back.”

“What about Danson?” Crane demanded.

Chip looked over at Danson, who was surrounded by the two angry male dolphins and Kowalski’s diving party. “Kowalski and his team are handling him.”

“Has he been secured?”

“Not yet.”

“The two of you get back as fast as you can.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Chip said. “Morton out.” He looked at Lynn. “Here,” he said, offering her his regulator. She took two breaths, then handed it back. “Ready?” he asked.

Lynn nodded, then patted the big female and signaled to Chip to take hold of the dolphin’s dorsal. He handed her the regulator for one more draught of air, then latched on to Maxie’s dorsal. Lynn moved to Maxie’s other side, slipped her hand below Chip’s, then gave Maxie the signal to move off, and they headed back to _Seaview_.

They made several stops on the way back to share Chip’s air, but reached _Seaview_ reasonably quickly. “Riley, open the lock,” Chip ordered, and the outer hatch to the dolphin tank opened. They entered, waited for the outer hatch to close, then swam through to safety when the inner hatch cycled open.

Lynn was the first in, breaking the surface in a huge exhalation of bubbles, then taking in a deep, gasping breath as her head broke the surface of the pool. She pulled off her mask and tried to push herself out of the tank, but reaction had finally hit her and she was shaking so much she couldn’t manage. All she could do was hang on the edge of the tank and drag in deep, ragged breaths.

Chip wasn’t in much better shape as his own adrenaline rush wore off, but he was able to boost Lynn out of the tank, practically throwing her onto the deck. Somehow he managed to find the strength to drag himself out of the water, divest himself of his fins and mask, drop his tanks, and help Lynn, who’d kicked off her fins but who was still struggling with the rest of her gear, to rid herself of the buoyancy vest/tank combo.

Chip helped Lynn to her feet. “Are you okay?” he asked, resisting the surprising urge to take her into his arms and hold on to her.

“I think so.” Her comment to Maureen weeks earlier came rushing back to her. _I’d trust him with my life_. She blinked, then stared at him, her green eyes dark and serious. “You saved my life.”

“Your endurance game with the dolphins is what kept you alive until we could share my air.”

“But if you hadn’t been there….”

“That’s what a diving buddy is for, Doctor,” he said, all too aware of what would have happened if he hadn’t been there.

She was silent a moment, then nodded. “Yeah. That’s what they’re there for. You won’t get mad if I thank you, will you?”

He shook his head and smiled. “No.”

“Thank you.” And then she reached up and hugged him.

He didn’t allow his surprise to show as he hugged her back, holding her a bit tighter, a little closer, just a moment longer than propriety would allow. “You’re welcome,” he said softly, as they drew apart.

** *** **

Lee Crane paced the control room, frustrated at his inability to act. “Damn it, Kowalski, what the hell is going on out there?” he muttered, rhythmically slamming his right fist into his left palm as he paced the length of the control room.

Kowalski must have read his mind, because a moment later, his voice came through the speaker mounted on one of the girders overhead. “Skipper?”

Crane lunged for the nearest mike. “Yes?” he snapped.

“We got Danson – two of the dolphins were guarding him when we got here.” Kowalski’s voice was low, and his breathing was labored. “He came at us with a knife, and he clipped Weening’s arm.”

Lee managed to restrain the surge of anger he felt at the news. “Andy, are you okay?”

“It’s just a scratch, Skipper,” Weening said, but Lee could hear the pain in his voice.

“Get back here now,” Lee ordered. “Where are the dolphins?”

“One took Mister Morton and the Doc back to _Seaview_. The other two of ‘em are still here with us. They don’t look too happy with Danson.”

 _They’re not alone in that,_ Lee thought, his upper lip curling in a snarl. “Bring them back and bring Danson in through the tank room lock.”

“Aye-aye, Skipper.”

Lee double-clicked the mike. “Chief Richter.”

 _Seaview’_ s Master-at-Arms answered immediately. “Aye, sir.”

“Assemble a security team and lay down to the tank room on the double,” Lee ordered. “Take Danson into custody when the dive party brings him aboard.”

“On our way, Skipper.”

Sparks hurried up to the chart table. “Captain, message from the tank room. The XO and Doctor Murtagh just came back aboard. One dolphin came with them – Riley says it’s Maxie.”

Lee sighed as relief suffused his entire body. “What’s their condition?”

“Riley said they both look like they’ve been scared out of ten years’ growth, but other than that, they seem okay,” Sparks assured him.

“Call Sickbay and have Doctor Jamieson get down there on the double, and let the Admiral know what's going on,” Crane ordered. “Lieutenant O’Brien, you have the conn. I’ll be in the tank room. Lieutenant Baker, you’re with me.”

“Aye, sir, I have the conn,” O’Brien acknowledged and moved to the plot table.

“Aye, sir,” Sparks acknowledged and headed back to the radio shack on the double as Crane and Baker hurried out the aft hatch.

** *** **

The diving party, with Danson under guard, surfaced in the dolphin tank. Behind them, the male dolphins chattered and screeched as they too broke the surface.

Lynn hurried over to the tank to check on the dolphins, warily keeping one eye on Danson. Chip followed, his attention completely on their assailant, who was being manhandled onto the deck by the diving party.

The male dolphins chattered anxiously at Lynn, who reached down and petted them, crooning to them, quieting them. Then Maxie spotted Danson, who’d gotten to his feet alongside the tank, and she set up a racket. Leo and Sammy made popping noises that Lynn knew were threat vocalizations, then echoed Maxie with even louder squeals, and the tank compartment rang with the cries of three angry dolphins, the intensity of which had several of Seaview’s crew covering their ears.

“ **Quiet**!” Lynn yelled, and the dolphins settled down, making only a few disgruntled noises in Danson’s direction.

Crane and Baker hurried into the tank room, followed by Nelson and Doctor Jamieson and one of his corpsmen, who’d met them in the passageway just outside. Lee directed Baker in the direction of the diving party, which was guarding Danson pending the arrival of Chief Richter and his security team. Jamieson and one of his corpsmen, Greg McElhatton, followed, and turned their attention to Andy Weening and his injured arm.

Then Crane hurried to where Chip stood with Lynn. “Are you two all right?”

Chip cast a concerned glance at Lynn, then nodded. “No injuries, Captain.”

“You’re sure?” Crane pressed.

Lynn was about to answer when the security detail began to escort Danson from the compartment. As he moved past Lynn, she moved away from Lee and stepped in front of Danson. The detail began to hurry him away, but she held up a hand to stop them. The men looked at Chip, who nodded.

Lynn looked at Danson, showing no fear, only puzzlement. “Why?” was all she said.

Danson shrugged. “Nothing personal, Doctor. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time. You saw something you shouldn’t have seen, and you had to pay for that. Unfortunately, I didn’t carry out that part of the mission.” The corners of his mouth lifted in a sneer. “And my advances toward you were completely insincere – I only wanted to throw you off your guard. You’re not worth my time.”

“That’s a relief,” Lynn spat.

Chip's eyes resembled twin shards of ice as he pulled Lynn back, stepping between her and Danson. “You’re a very lucky man, Doctor Danson – if that **is** your real name.”

“And why is that, Commander?” Danson asked.

“Because Doctor Murtagh is still alive,” Chip snapped. “If anything had happened to her, your life wouldn’t be worth much.”

Danson favored him with an odd smile. “Ah, Commander, your concern for your lover is touching. Quite touching, in fact. But as a point of fact, my life isn’t worth very much at this moment anyway.”

Lynn’s string of curses in German was lost in the general hubbub in the tank compartment that followed Danson’s statement.

“You’re damn right about that, Danson,” Chip grated out. “And it’s worth even less with each passing second.”

Lee looked at his exec in surprise, alarmed by the threat he heard in Chip’s words. While normally a pleasant, easygoing man who prided himself on his ability to remain calm and in control despite any provocation, Chip had a temper that, once aroused, ran toward icy exactness rather than rampant rage. He knew how to use his anger productively – and the angrier he got, the quieter and more precise he became. But push him far enough and he would explode. Lee saw a light in those blue eyes he’d seldom seen before and knew Chip was on the verge of a memorable explosion now.

Lee moved closer to Chip, resting a hand on his forearm, exerting just enough pressure to remind Chip of his presence. Chip turned; their eyes met and locked and a silent message passed between them. Chip nodded once, sharply, then backed up to stand beside Lynn, grasping her elbow and steering her out of Danson’s path, keeping his body between her and the other man.

“Get him out of here,” Crane ordered.

“Doctor, my compliments on your well-trained charges. I would say this more than demonstrated their abilities,” Danson called over his shoulder as he was taken to the brig.

Chip looked down at Lynn. _Seaview’s_ crew was used to confronting death on a near-daily basis, but he could only imagine how this had affected a marine biologist whose normal working milieu was a research lab and a tank full of dolphins. She’d been fine since they’d come back aboard, but now he could see that she was starting to think about what had happened – as well as what **might** have happened – and she looked pale and shaky.

“Come on,” Chip said, and gently but firmly took her arm, steering her over to a pile of equipment cases and making her sit down on one. He crouched on the deck in front of her, taking both of her hands into his and squeezing them. They were ice cold. “Hey, you aren’t going to faint on me, are you?” he asked, rubbing the circulation back into them one at a time, amazed by the affection and surge of protectiveness he felt for her.

Lynn’s eyes met his, and he saw a slight glint of humor steal into them. “Would my virtue be safe if I did?” she asked.

He smiled gently. “Only if you wanted it to be.”

She smiled weakly, then chewed her lip, an uncertain frown creasing her brow. “Commander, I really think we should—” she began, but Jamieson’s arrival cut her off.

“Are you two all right?” Jamieson asked, looking from one to the other.

Chip nodded, then inclined his head in Lynn’s direction.

“I will be, once I stop shaking,” Lynn said.

“He didn’t hurt you?’’ Jamieson asked, taking one of her hands from Chip and monitoring her pulse. Chip kept a firm grip on her other hand as he stood.

“No.” Lynn shook her head. “He only cut my airhose.”

“Only cut your airhose,” Chip echoed. “ **That** can be replaced,” he grated out. “ **You** can’t.”

Lynn blinked in surprise, taken aback by his surprising vehemence. “I won’t argue with you there, Commander.”

Jamieson critically looked Lynn over. “Are you wearing anything under that wetsuit?”

Lynn looked at him sharply, her eyes widening at his question. “Um…a two-piece,” she said hesitantly.

Jamieson shook his head. “Then I won’t embarrass you by asking you to take the wetsuit jacket off so I can take your blood pressure.”

“Aw, come on, Jamie,” Chip protested. “Live a little.” He looked down at Lynn and winked.

Lynn laughed softly and ducked her head, but she made no move to unzip the closure of her wetsuit.

“What color is it?” Chip asked.

Lynn raised her eyes to his in confusion. “What?”

“What color is it?” Chip persisted. “Your suit – a bikini? I bet it’s not basic black.” A teasing light stole into his eyes. “Or…yellow.”

Jamieson regarded Chip with a puzzled frown, but said nothing as he slipped an oxygen saturation sensor onto Lynn’s right middle finger. “I can’t take your blood pressure through your wetsuit, so this will have to do.” He scanned the readings as he removed it from her finger.

“It’s not a bikini,” Lynn said to Chip, angling her head to try to see the sensor’s readout. “And it’s purple.”

“You coordinated it with your wetsuit,” Chip said with an exaggerated shake of his head. “I should have known.”

“Extend your arm, and hold your hand out, palm down,” Jamie ordered, giving Chip a puzzled frown. Lynn did as he’d instructed, her hand shaking ever-so-slightly. Jamie flashed a penlight in her eyes. “Pupillary reaction is fine. Any tunnel vision?”

Lynn shook her head. “My vision is fine. So’s my hearing.” She smiled. “I know what symptoms you’re looking for, Doctor Jamieson. I don’t have any of them. Believe me, if I did, I’d tell you.”

Jamieson regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll have to take your word for that. You’ll be okay,” he told Lynn. “You just need to relax for a while.”

“Easier said than done, I think,” Lynn said.

“Would you like a sedative? It will help you to relax,” Jamieson offered.

“Only if it involves medicinal alcohol – and a lot of it,” she replied quickly.

“I can arrange that,” Jamieson told her. “Will a glass of the Catholic do?”

“Jameson’s? It’s head and shoulders above Bushmill’s.” But Lynn shook her head. “Thank you, but no. I’ll get there on my own for now. Maybe after dinner.”

“No, Jamie, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Chip said, backing her up. “We’ll be okay.”

Jamieson lifted a surprised eyebrow at the ‘we’ in Chip’s statement, but made no comment. “Fine,” he told Lynn. “Come by Sickbay if you change your mind. I’ll leave you in our XO’s capable hands – I need to see to stitching Andy’s wound.”

Lynn nodded, and Jamieson closed up his bag and left. Wearing a ghost of a smile, she got to her feet and turned to Chip. “ **We**?” she asked. “What’s this ‘we’ business?”

“It got rid of him, didn’t it?” Chip pointed out.

“That it did,” Lynn acknowledged. “Thank you.” She squeezed his arm. “And thank you for trying to distract me.”

“You’re more than welcome,” Chip said. “Purple, huh?”

“Yup.” Lynn nodded. “Royal purple, actually.”

“Thanks for the clarification,” Chip said dryly. “But not a bikini?”

“Still not a bikini,” Lynn said with a smile.

“That’s a pity.”

From their position, they could easily hear Nelson and Crane questioning Baker. Chip listened in with one ear, keeping most of his attention on Lynn, doing his best to distract her.

“He had a transmitter on him,” Baker said. “He probably intended to use it once Chip and Lynn were....” His voice trailed off.

“Probably to call in a small boat or a helo,” Nelson mused, looking over at the pair standing by the equipment cases.

“From where?” Crane asked angrily.

“Unknown, Captain,” Baker answered. “There are no sonar contacts in the area at all, either surface or submerged. Sparks reports no comm traffic, either.”

“He was abandoned,” Crane concluded. “But why?”

“He’d come to the end of his usefulness,” Nelson ventured. “But I’m afraid we’ll never know the details why. Or why he tried to kill Chip and Lynn.”

Chip realized that Lynn was listening avidly, and watching their discussion with wide, concerned eyes. He tried to lighten the atmosphere to distract her. “Doctor, this is becoming a bad habit with you.”

She turned her head toward him, blinking in confusion. “What is?”

“Being attacked when you leave the sub. I think it’s the wetsuit. This is the second time it’s happened.”

Lynn blinked at him, trying to comprehend. “ _Bitte_?” she asked, then shook her head. “I’m sorry – what?”

“Those wild wetsuits you wear,” Chip explained. “They’re like waving a red flag in front of a bull.”

She stared at him with puzzled green eyes, then realized what he was trying to do. She smiled and shook her head ruefully. “I’ll have to remember that.”

He realized from the light in her eyes that she knew exactly what he was trying to do, and why. He squeezed her hand, released it, and stepped back slightly as Nelson and Crane joined them.

“Lynn, are you all right?’ Nelson asked.

Lynn rose a little unsteadily but shook her head as Chip reached to steady her. “I’m fine, Admiral. A little – no, a lot – weirded out, but fine.”

“Lynn, you realize you can’t discuss what happened out there,” Nelson said gently.

“Of course I do,” Lynn said, laughing mirthlessly. “And really, Admiral – who would believe me, anyway?”

“Your practical streak is showing again,” Chip said. He stayed close by her, watching for any signs of shock. While she seemed a little wobbly and preoccupied – no surprise there, considering – she still didn’t appear to be going into shock, which was a good sign.

“Now what?” Lynn asked.

“Now we submit to a debriefing,” Chip told her. “ONI, most likely,” he said, slanting a quick glance of annoyance at Lee, who ignored him.

Lynn shook her head. “No, I mean, what happens to Danson?”

“He’s been secured in the brig, and he’ll stay there until we return to the Institute. Then he’ll be turned over to the FBI, who will charge him with attempted murder,” Nelson told her.

Lynn nodded. “Will there be a trial?”

“I would think so,” Nelson said.

“Which means we’ll have to testify,” Chip said.

“Oh, boy.”

“Does that bother you?” Crane asked gently.

Lynn shook her head. “It doesn’t exactly thrill me. But you live and you die—”

“Poor choice of words in this case, Doctor,” Chip muttered.

“Good point, Commander,” Lynn acknowledged.

“Well, we know one part of the test was successful – the alarm went off in the radio shack,” Lee said. “And Kowalski said the dolphins took off like a bat out of hell for you, too.”

Lynn’s gaze flashed toward him. “Really? That means either the regulator alarm went off when I chomped down on it, or the transmitter on the air tank went off when the wire to the battery pack was cut.” She frowned. “It’s hard to tell – I wasn’t exactly thinking of maintaining scientific controls at that point.”

“I’ll let you slide this time, Doctor,” Nelson said with a half-smile. “Sparks recorded all of the incoming data – I’ll analyze it for you to see if we can narrow it down.”

“Thank you, Admiral – there’s a silver lining, I guess,” Lynn said softly.

“And the dolphins did what they were trained to do, as well,” Nelson pointed out.

“Just not in the kind of scenario I’d envisioned,” Lynn pointed out. “Well, I’m not gonna look a gift dolphin in the mouth – especially when I’m still breathing because of it.”

“You’ll do, Doctor,” Lee Crane said with a smile.

“I’ll do for what?” Lynn asked wryly.

“For anything you want, I imagine.” Crane looked at Nelson; a silent message passed between them, and Nelson drew Lynn to one side, speaking softly.

Chip kept his eyes on them; he couldn’t hear what either one was saying, but Lynn kept nodding, then finally gave Nelson a half-smile.

Lee noticed the direction of Chip’s gaze. “Pep talk, I think.”

“Mmmm,” was Chip’s only response, as he kept his gaze on Nelson and Lynn.

“I’ll be in the control room,” Lee said to Chip. “Stay with Lynn if she needs you – take all the time she needs,” he said, pitching his voice so only Chip could hear.

Chip nodded, and Lee joined Nelson. Chip heard Lee tell Lynn to call him or Chip if she needed them, then he and Nelson both nodded at Lynn, and left the tank compartment.

Chip watched them leave the compartment while Lynn walked to the tank and sat at the edge, looking pensively down at the dolphins. Then he followed her.

“Helluva day, huh?” she asked, not looking at him.

“Maybe you should go to your cabin and lie down for a while,” he suggested.

She shook her head, still not looking at him. “No, I don’t think so. I’m not ready to be alone with my thoughts yet. I just want to stay here with the guys for a while.”

“Do you want some company?” Chip asked.

She turned and looked up at him. “I wouldn’t complain very much if you stayed,” she said softly.

Chip knew he couldn’t turn that soft request down for any amount of money. “All right.” He sat down on the deck alongside her. They remained that way in a shared silence, each reliving the horrifying experience of the dive.

Chip heard her give a long, shaky sigh, and turned to see her rake her hands backward through still-wet hair. “Are you all right?”

She nodded, then took a deep breath in an attempt to settle down. “Yeah, I think so. I just can’t stop thinking about—”

“I know. Neither can I.” Sensing she needed the immediate reassurance of human contact, Chip reached for her hand and squeezed. “Think about it, accept that it happened, then put it behind you as soon as you can.” His voice was firm, yet gentle. “It’s over and you’re safe – Danson can’t hurt you now.”

“I know that, logically. But emotionally....” She swallowed heavily. “I’ll get past this – I know I will. It’ll just take some time to process.”

“I’m here if you need me,” Chip offered.

Lynn tried to marshal her thoughts, to put the attack behind her. She could do it, she knew, but it would take time. She looked up at Chip. His blue eyes displayed concern, but they contained strength, a quiet, capable strength she could grab onto and use as an anchor.

“I know that,” she replied softly. “Thank you, Commander. You’re a good friend.”

She made no move to release his hand, but seemed to find comfort in the contact. Chip laced his fingers through hers, and she even appeared to relax somewhat after that. Slowly, he could sense her tension ebb.

Alone with their thoughts, they sat that way for some time – Chip never knew exactly how long – until they were interrupted by Kowalski and Riley, arriving to prepare the dolphins’ late afternoon feeding.

“Uh, Doc?” Kowalski asked hesitantly.

Lynn turned quickly, startled back into the present by the rating’s voice. “Yeah, Ski?”

“It’s feeding time?”

Lynn looked at her dive watch. “Yeah. That it is.” She dropped Chip’s hand and rose. “I’ll help you.”

“Nah, Doc,” Riley said. “We can handle it. Why don’t you go flake out for a while? You look like you need it.”

“I look that bad?” Lynn asked wryly.

“I hate to say it, Doc, but you’ve looked better,” Riley admitted. “A lot better.”

“Thanks a lot,” Lynn mumbled.

“That might not be such a bad idea, you know,” Chip said softly.

Lynn looked from one to the other. “You’re right. I’ll...be in my cabin if anyone needs me.”

Chip lagged behind as she walked to the hatch. “Call **me** if there are any problems,” he said in a low voice. “Understood?” Kowalski and Riley both nodded silent agreement, and Chip left to catch up to Lynn.

“Hey,” he called softly, and Lynn turned, then stopped and waited for him. “I’ll walk you to your cabin.”

Lynn looked up at him and nodded. “Thanks. I’d like that.”

They walked in silence for a few yards, then Chip asked, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Do I really look that bad?” she asked wryly as they walked through the passageways to Officers’ Country. “Tell me the truth, now.”

Chip shrugged. “You look like you’ve been through hell – and you’re entitled to.”

“I **do** look that bad,” Lynn said ruefully.

“Not really,” Chip said. “What you look like is **alive**.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” She exhaled forcefully. “I think I’ll take a nice, long shower, and then crash. If I’m not there for dinner....” She smiled and shrugged.

“Midrats are always available,” Chip pointed out. “But I’m sure Cookie would make you anything you want at any time you asked for it. You seem to have a mysterious power over him.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” She cocked her head to look up at him when they stopped at the door to her cabin. “But…when you’re going to dinner, stop by my cabin anyway. Just in case.”

Chip smiled down at her. “I will. Just in case,” he echoed.

Lynn nodded, then chewed at her lip. “Thank you. Again.”

“No thanks are necessary,” Chip said softly, then reached out to cup her shoulder, gently squeezing in a gesture of support. “Go on,” he said, and dropped his hand.

“See you later,” Lynn said and opened the cabin door. Before she stepped through it, she turned back to Chip, raised up on her toes, and kissed his cheek. Then, without looking at him, she entered her cabin, the door _snicking_ softly shut behind her.

Stunned, Chip stood staring at her door for several moments after she’d gone inside. Looking around to see if anyone had noticed their interplay, he strode down the passageway, escaping to his own cabin next door.

 _All right_ , Chip said to himself as he closed his own cabin door behind him, leaning back against it and taking a deep breath. _You’re attracted to her, and now you know she’s attracted to you – at least a little bit. But what are you going to do about it?_

He knew, as sure as he knew his own name, that if any move were to be made, he’d have to be the one to do it. But now was not the time for any moves – not when she was still off-balance and vulnerable from Danson’s attack. He refused to take advantage of her in such a way.

No – he’d bide his time and wait for the right moment.

If it ever came....

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
>  Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
>  Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
>  Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
>  Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
>  CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
>  Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
>  Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
>  Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
>  Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
>  Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
>  Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
>  Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
>  Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
>  Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
>  Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
>  Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
>  Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
>  Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
>  Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
>  Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
>  Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
>  Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
>  Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
>  Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen  
>  Dr. Terrence Danson Patrick Fabian  
>  CPO Greg McElhatton Jonathan Tucker

**Author's Note:**

> I've created a lot of original characters to populate Seaview (you really couldn't run a submarine that size with the few officers and enlisted we saw every week, especially in the latter three seasons) and the Nelson Institute, so for your reference, I've included a cast list of the canonical characters from the show and the original characters I've created and have used in this story.
> 
> Canon characters from Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea  
> Admiral Harriman Nelson Richard Basehart  
> Commander Lee Crane David Hedison  
> Lieutenant Commander Chip Morton Robert Dowdell  
> Lieutenant Bobby O'Brien Derrick Lewis  
> CPO Francis Sharkey Terry Becker  
> Commodore Lucius Emery Peter Lorre  
> Angie Pierce (her last name is my own creation) Judy Lang  
> Petty Officer Second Class Walter Kowalski (his first name is my creation) Del Monroe  
> Petty Officer Third Class Stu Riley Allan Hunt
> 
> Original characters  
> Lynn Murtagh, PhD Amy Carlson  
> Dave Cousins, PhD Denzel Washington  
> Bob Shaughnessey, PhD Billy Grendell  
> Nick Costelloe Ed Marinaro  
> Pete Holmfeld Matthew Grey Gubler  
> Maureen Garrity Kirstie Alley  
> Amelia Konn Mitzi Hoag  
> Lisa Baker Kim Delaney  
> Chief Ben Wilson Jonathan Banks  
> Lieutenant Chris Hodges Patrick J Adams  
> Lieutenant Larry Baker Scott William Winters  
> Senior Chief Jack Nolan Gregory Jbara  
> Jack Murtagh Gary Cole  
> Kevin Murtagh Michael Biehn  
> Eileen Garrity Murtagh Jessica Steen


End file.
